Smack, crack, bushwhacked
by Zoe-eoZ
Summary: A beach party, a wasted Nate, and who is to drive him home? Exactly, his more than estranged half-brother, Lucas. But what will happen if the two get into a car crash on their way? ... How will it affect their lives? BL / NH - sibling fic
1. 1 The accident

_This story is set in a time when everything is still all about the brothers, about Brooke and Lucas, Nathan and Haley; back in the day...  
_

_[Slightly edited in 2012, though there's still tons of editing left to do...]  
_

* * *

"Oh, for heaven's sake, I'll bring him home, alright. Gosh…" Lucas said and gave Haley a look that told her he was only doing it for her.

Thanks, she mouthed and turned away from him and Nathan, going back to the beach, where all the others were probably still celebrating. Great, thought Lucas and stared hard at Nathan, his not so beloved jackass half-brother, who had gotten so wasted that he could no longer stand or walk alone.

"Crap, Nate. Where are all your great friends now, huh? I really don't think _I_ should be the one to get you home in one piece…" Lucas was pissed off; Nathan would probably never have done the same for him, driving him home. But then: Lucas wouldn't be such a mess, ever…Plus, he really was only doing it for Haley, because no matter what she had previously said, she cared for the guy, no matter if he deserved it or not.

(He didn't.)

Sighing in resignation, Lucas tightened his grip on his brother once again as he manhandled him into the passenger seat of his car. After shutting the door unnecessarily forcefully, he took his time rounding the car, not at all eager to have to drive his wasted brother the one and a half hours back home to Tree Hill.

Halfway there, Lucas had to stop the car to get Nathan out, who then seemed to puke out his soul. Lucas had to hold him up to prevent him from falling headfirst into the mess. Gross. Really great! He'd have done that for his friends, in fact had actually done it once or twice, but for Nathan? Lucas was only doing it reluctantly, and only because it was better this way then having to put Nathan back into the car with stinking puke all over his clothes.

"You know what? You better leave Haley alone from now on, alright? She deserves better—" Lucas was just saying when suddenly he saw another car getting closer way too fast. Its headlights flashed across the street in a mad meandering line. Before Luke could do anything about it he felt himself crash into the other car full force.

And then: blank.

-o0o-

When he came to, he was hanging from his seat, staring down at the car's roof. Apparently, his car was lying upside down on the street, Lucas could see shards of glass out there, and the lights of the other car were still glowing eerily, illuminating the asphalt and his car's interior. Lucas tried to free himself from the safety belt but found he couldn't do it.

Okay, he thought, let's recapitulate what happened: he was hanging upside down—which in itself was quite an uncomfortable position—but what with the frigging seatbelt he couldn't change that. Next thing to check off of the list: had he suffered any injuries? His arms seemed alright, his head felt okay, no bruises or blood there. Good. He checked further down, his chest hurt, he might have broken a few ribs; but broken ribs were not too bad, right? Alright, what else? No internal bleeding as far as he could tell, because it didn't hurt when he pressed his hands into his abdomen, feeling for injuries. He probably shouldn't force it, though…

Then he saw it: his leg was stuck in place underneath the steering wheel, in fact held in place by the strangely distorted construction. He felt the stickiness of something, blood, oozing from it. But there was no pain. Not yet, anyway. It would surely set in sooner or later. Great.

Only then did he remember his passenger and turned his head toward the other front seat, trying to suppress a rising feeling of panic. Nathan was lying on his side, underneath him Lucas could make out the side window's outline. So the car was not upside down, but actually lying on one side… Lucas jerked his head violently, trying to locate his own position. Why hadn't he noticed this? Why hadn't he realized it before? What had made him think—Lucas stopped himself there. He had to concentrate, had to pull himself together, had to check on Nathan. He called out to the younger one, said his name over and over again. He tried to reach him with his hand.

It took Nathan forever to gain consciousness, or so it seemed to Lucas, who had to wait it out because he couldn't do anything other than that, forced into passivity by his awkward position. He did try to free his leg a few times, but it was hopeless. Apart from hurting himself even further and nearly passing out once, it didn't help things much. So it was up to someone passing them by to get help. Or to Nathan.

When finally Nathan did stir, Lucas was so grateful that he nearly started crying. He choked it back with an effort and called out to his brother again. The younger one managed to turn his head slowly and Lucas could make out some blood where Nathan's head had rested on the window. "Hey…" said Lucas, "Are you all right? ... Nate?" The kid just stared at him, seemingly attempting to focus on his face. "Nathan?"

Nathan passed out again without having said anything. And this time Lucas really did start crying. He didn't know whether someone was going to find them there, whether Nathan would make it, whether he himself would… His leg had eventually started to hurt quite badly by then, and although he had managed to tie it with his own belt, it still seemed to bleed. Or was he imagining things? He felt so weak. Too weak, actually, to still try freeing himself.

"Lucas?" He heard it from a distance. He had closed his eyes, only for a minute, only so as to rebuild his strength a little… And now he heard his name being called. "Luke…please…" He opened his eyes, which was harder than he would have thought and frightened him because it meant that next time he closed his eyes he might not be able to open them again… He saw his brother leaning against the passenger seat, holding his right arm in his lap and Lucas felt his left hand on his own neck. "Thank goodness!" Nathan exclaimed, "I thought…" He didn't finish his sentence, but the older brother knew what he had thought. "I'm okay", he therefore simply said before explaining about his leg.

"Maybe if I-" Nathan started.

"No!" Lucas shouted more vehemently than he had meant to, eyes wide with panic at the thought of Nathan so much as touching his trapt leg. When he had composed himself again he added, "Please… I tried, it won't come loose…it just hurts worse every time I try…" He didn't mention the amount of blood he must have lost already. "What about you?"

Nathan didn't answer that one. Not with words. He just shrugged. He seemed okay to Lucas, for the moment. His having been unconscious for so long worried him a bit, but now he looked alright, apart from the blood on his right temple and his arm… "Do you think you could get out and get help?"

"Yeah. Don't you have a cell here somewhere, though?"

"Somewhere, yes." Lucas said, smirking. "Go find it if you can…"

Nathan actually did try to find it but gave up soon. "No chance", he said, "Your car's one great mess. Even if I find it, it'll probably be broken."

"You could check on that other car…see in what shape the driver is, and ask them for a cell phone…" Lucas suggested, suddenly remembering how they had gotten into this darn situation in the first place. There was at least one more person involved in this accident, and eventually Lucas had the time to think about them, and their health.

"Okay", Nathan said. Then he kicked in the remains of the windshield and made his way out. Lucas felt strangely lonely while he was gone, and even a bit scared, though he didn't want to admit it to himself.

It took the younger one a while. Lucas had to wonder who his brother had encountered in that other car, what took him so long.

He started to get terribly worried, when Nathan appeared again. His face looked ashen. "What…" Lucas started. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders, which must have looked strange, considering his hanging position. But there was no one there to look at them… "Nate."

"Um… I…" Nathan fell silent before he had really said much of anything. He had difficulties looking his brother in the eyes, and Lucas got suddenly aware of the shiver running through his brother's body.

"Nate, for goodness's sake! Are you okay?"

Nathan tried to focus on Lucas, but didn't quite manage it.

"Okay, just sit down for a sec. Sit down…"

"Crap, Luke, they're all dead in there, I…"

All? How many were in that other car? Lucas didn't dare ask. Nathan really looked a mess.

"I can't go in there. I can't look for a cell, they're... I just - I can't…"

"Alright. That's okay… It's okay. Nate. You don't have to, we'll just—we'll just wait here, okay? Someone will have to pass by eventually, right? And…"

Oh no, thought Lucas, this is getting worse. I'll die here. He felt something tug at his consciousness, a scary tiredness, a coldness.

It must have shown on his face, for all of a sudden Nathan said: "You stay awake, okay? You stay awake, Luke!" He sounded afraid, which would have amused Lucas in any other situation, seeing Nathan—the tough ball player and full-time jerk—seeing that guy afraid. Right now, though, he merely nodded in an effort to reassure the kid, and said, "Don't worry, I will.—But I don't think we'll actually be able to just wait it out. I mean—" He didn't want to tell Nathan, he so didn't want to worry him any more. But what if Lucas just died on his brother here? What if no one ever came and they _both_…

"You'll have to go and get help, Nate."

"And leave you here to die? Dammit, Luke! You can't—"

"I won't make it much longer if you don't go and get help! Nathan." Lucas suddenly blurted out, surprising even himself. He regretted it almost instantly when he saw the look on the other's face. But it worked. Without another word Nathan turned and left. Just vanished from view and left the older one hanging in his seat waiting for help or death to get to him. Whichtever came first.

Lucas had never been so lonely or so scared in his entire life. He had never cared so much for his brother, had never considered him that before: a brother—without the "half"… Lucas would have given anything to know Nathan to be safe now. He couldn't remember when that terrible panic had started: that Nathan might just pass out somewhere on his way and be left to die in a ditch, all alone. Just like Lucas himself, dying in this frigging car in the middle of a road that no one else ever seemed to drive on.

Except those folks in the other car… Oh god, he was such a baby. But he couldn't care less now, he was afraid to die, afraid of being all alone, afraid of the darkness around him now that the lights of the other car had eventually died down to a flicker, then gone out entirely. He was afraid of the stillness all around him. No sound, except for his own breathing and his heartbeat.

And then he heard something else, a car. Someone was coming. He just had to hold on a little longer, not give in to the tiredness. Not yet.

It meant that Nathan was safe. That he had found help. They were coming for him now, for Lucas. He heard the car stopping close by, heard voices. And then he saw Haley's shocked face, saw Peyton kneeling next to her, frantically speaking into her cell phone. "Oh god, Luke.—It's gonna be okay, I'm here, I'm here. Peyton is calling an ambulance right now, okay? Just stay awake, okay? Please, Lucas, just look at me now, it's okay…" he heard Haley say. Haley. And Peyton. Why Peyton? Those two never did anything together, they…

Peyton must have been driving her home. Slowly, the truth of this assumption sank in. Peyton had eventually offered to drive Haley home because Lucas hadn't showed up again to come and get her as he had promised. She hadn't wanted to go home that early, and not with Nathan in the same car…She had waited for Lucas in vain. And Peyton had surely taken pity on her. Haley must have felt so humiliated.

But they were only calling the ambulance _now_. They hadn't known… Lucas pushed Haley's hand away in a sudden impulse, and stared hard at her, all alert again.

"Nathan didn't meet you?" he asked, nearly tonelessly. The expression on Haley's face said it all. "Oh my god." Lucas grabbed her arm. "Oh my god! Where is he? Oh god!"

"Luke—"

"Oh crap, Haley! I sent him to go for help. I thought he stumbled into you on his way! But… Oh no, oh god, you've gotta go and find him! You've—"

The world went black then. Quite suddenly, as if someone had robbed him of his sight and his senses. Only a split second for him to wonder about it, and then nothing.

-o0o-

"Whoa, dude! What happened to you? You look like shit…" Greg looked from the kid in the street back to his friends that were sitting with him in his grandpa's pickup truck, before he opened the door and got out. The kid just stood there, staring. He was covered in soot and blood and whatnot. The others got out, too, Paul walked up to the kid, softly touching his shoulder. "Did you have an accident somewhere?—You alright?"

Greg thought he recognized the guy from somewhere. "Dude, you been at the party back on the beach?" he suddenly asked, coming closer. "Paul, I think I saw him there earlier; remember those guys fighting?"

Before he could elaborate on the scene he had witnessed earlier that night, the kid eventually spoke.

"Please, we need to get help for my brother, he…"

Paul and Greg exchanged alarmed glances. "What happened, dude? Where is your brother?" Greg was just asking when the girl he was giving a ride _(and maybe more, as she had invited him to only a few minutes ago),_ Brooke, jumped out of the car and ran to the kid, shouting "Oh my god, Nathan! What the hell happened to you? What—"

She took him by the shoulders, letting go instantly, though, when he flinched at the contact.

"Brooke?" he asked, and it came out as an uncertain whisper.

"Yes, Nathan. It's me. It's Brooke. What happened to you, Nate? Nathan…"

"Please. Brooke, it's Luke, he's hurt—do any of you guys have a cell?"

Greg saw the look on the girl's face at that. Shock. She knew the brother, too. There went his fun night, but he wasn't really thinking about getting laid any longer anyway.

"Sure," he said, all business again, all focused on the task at hand: rescuing that brother. "I'll call an ambulance, okay?" He was already dialing the number, or rather punching the three digits in. While he was waiting for the connection to be established he motioned for the others to get back into the car.

"Paul, you ask him where we'll find this Luke. And put him in the passenger seat, alright, so he'll be able to show me where to drive.—Hello? Hi, this is Greg Anders. Listen, we just came across a kid that's been in some sort of accident and I think we'll need an ambulance here… Um, he's alright I think, well, considering… But he mentioned another one who seemingly needs help… It's somewhere on Costello Road probably, or that area…—yeah, up at the beach… I don't know where that other one is, he's gotta be close by, though. I don't think the kid could have walked a long way in the state he's in… Ma'am, can't you just send an ambulance and the cops to meet us here? Costello is pretty easy to find. If there's been an accident on this road somewhere we're bound to find the site soon, okay? … I'll hand him the phone, alright, hold on.—Dude, it's the woman from the 911-hotline. Can you try and explain to her what happened?"

Nathan stared absently at the cell phone in Greg's hand for a moment, before taking it from him. While the lady from the hotline was talking to him he tried to keep the approaching unconsciousness at bay by concentrating on Lucas, who was still out there in the car, dependant on Nathan to get him out of there.

"Please", he whispered, "His car crashed, it's—a few miles from here… I don't know, I… It's not far, we have to—please, he'll die if we don't get him out of there, his leg got stuck under the… under…" Nathan had difficulties concentrating on what had happened. He was lost for words and there was this fog enveloping his thoughts. He barely felt Brooke's hand on his arm, and yet it was reassuring to know she was there. He felt so darn tired. But he mustn't sleep, they had to go back to Lucas first…

"Nathan! No. _Nathan_!"

"Hey, kid, hey! Stay with us here, okay? Come on. Look at me, look at me!"

"Get that fucking car to drive, Greg! For god's sake! Go!" Paul said. "We gotta get him to the A and E ASAP!" He slapped the kid's cheeks, but he remained unconscious. "Shit!"

* * *

_More, anyone?_**  
**


	2. 2

_Let's see whether we can't save those Scott brothers..._

* * *

"Haley?"

Clutching her cell to her ear, Peyton walked straight up to where the other girl awkwardly leaned into the car's window, and lightly touched her shoulder. "Haley?" she said again and frowned in concern. She couldn't quite see past Haley and therefore didn't see much of Lucas either. She didn't even know if he was still alive until Haley finally turned around to face her and said,

"He lost consciousness, Peyton, I—I don't know what to do…I can't get him out! His left leg is somehow stuck in place underneath the steering wheel. We'd have to cut through the metal to get him out, I think. We can't do anything without help…"

Peyton saw tears fill Haley's eyes and felt her own face scrunch up in sympathy. "That's okay, Haley, the guy from the 911 says the ambulance should be here any minute now, okay?" she cajoled, never once lowering the cell phone that she was pressing to her ear with desperate force. She listened to everything Haley could tell her about the state Lucas was in and simultaneously gave the guy on the other end a full account of what she was told, adding her own two cents worth of information to Haley's survey.

"Oh god, Luke. Lucas," whined Haley, and yet she surprised Peyton with the amount of calm care she displayed toward the unconscious kid hanging from his seat. He looked so lifeless… Peyton nearly lost it when her brain suddenly seemed to focus on that single thought—Lucas, lifeless, on the verge of dying—and she was gladder than ever to have that soothing voice on the other end tell her exactly what to do: stay calm, make sure Lucas was not bleeding out anywhere, check that his airways were clear, and wait for the medics.

"I'm right here, Luke, you hear me?" whispered Haley, while the two girls were checking the limp body for any other, hidden injuries.

Peyton, who had climbed into the car to be able to reach Lucas' other side, felt a strange excitement when she ran her hands up and down Lucas' right leg, then up his torso, his right arm, his neck. She felt the light flutter of his weak pulse, felt the warmth emanating from his body, smelled a faint waft of his cologne, tinged with another, less appealing smell. Blood. But she didn't find any other wounds, and luckily, neither did Haley.

Haley's eyes met hers once their hands reached the crown of Lucas' head at the same time, and Peyton, always wary, backed away instantly and fumbled for the momentarily discarded phone again.

"Aside from his leg he seems to be okay," she recounted their findings and made her way out of the car, brushing off a few shards of glass as soon as she could stand again. "Yes, okay—okay," she said, barely listening to the strangers' repeated assurance that the ambulance was not far now, when suddenly she noticed traces of blood on her pants' legs. She was sure, though, that she hadn't cut herself going in and out of the car. And she was sure she had quite successfully avoided the place where Lucas' blood had pooled into an ominous sea of red, so how…

"Hold on," she said to the guy, already lowering her cell as she went up to face Lucas' best friend again. "Haley," she then said, as apprehension made her skin crawl uncomfortably. "Didn't you say something about Luke bringing Nathan home?"

The look Haley gave her, so full of shock and horror, was more telling, more frightening than any other one Peyton had ever seen directed at her.

Haley's hand flew up to cover her mouth in some gesture of desperation as she cried out Nathan's name and jumped to her feet, torn between remaining by Lucas' side and doing God knew what, Peyton didn't know.

"Oh God, Peyton. Nathan was in the car! How could I forget that? _I _was the one who asked Lucas to bring him home; it was I! Oh God, how could I forget—Lucas even _told_ me Nathan has gone to get help, he _TOLD_ me! Peyton—"

"Ssh," made Peyton at the other's outburst and pulled the near hysterical girl into a tight hug, trying to console both Haley and herself.

"Oh God, we gotta find him! What if he passes out? One of us should stay here with Lucas, wait for the ambulance, and the other…"

Peyton couldn't help tuning everything out right then. It reminded her so much of the helpless shock she always felt when thinking of her mom's accident, her death. And now two of her friends, one her ex-boyfriend and the other…, these two people were in such grave danger, and she couldn't do anything about it. This was not supposed to happen. It was not supposed to _happen_. It was not at all the cool night she had been looking forward to for ages. It was not a cool night at all. It hadn't even been that great of a party to begin with, what with her and Brooke having had this really stupid argument halfway through, resulting in Brooke's and her own rather early departure. They had been arguing about Lucas of all things, the same Lucas that was hanging in his seat now, not two feet from where she was standing, holding a girl she hardly knew. Lucas might die. They didn't know what had happened to Nathan. And Peyton didn't even dare think of what she and Haley had seen in that other car, which was positioned so close by that she could all too clearly see its dreaded outline over Haley's shoulder…

"Peyton?" Haley eventually whispered her name, sounding weirdly uncertain.

And then, they both turned as from nowhere headlights suddenly illumined the road in front of them.

-o0o-

"Oh shit! Shit shit shit!" Greg cursed as he saw what obstructed the road in front of them: the wreck of a car. No, worse still, two cars, one lying on its side and the other positioned as if merely parked there. If it weren't for its completely smashed front and side.

"What?" asked Brooke, trying to see something from her seat in the back, where she sat cradling Nathan's head in her lap. She didn't once stop exerting firm, yet careful pressure to the towel Paul had wrapped around her friend's injured arm, although Greg's apparent horror distracted Brooke a little.

Lucas…

She was scared for him, so scared. If Nathan was in such a bad state already, she didn't dare imagine what might have happened to the other Scott brother. What if he—No. Brooke wouldn't go there, she _couldn't_. And there she and Peyton had argued about who had more of a right to be with Lucas, they had argued about him like he were some kind of _thing_, no more than a few hours ago. Brooke felt sick at the mere thought. Could this crappy night really have gotten that much worse?

"There's another car." Paul pointed a finger into the darkness ahead of them, but Brooke couldn't see much back where she sat, and she didn't want to shift her position much, too worried was she about jostling Nathan unnecessarily. With a glance down into his troubled looking face she reassured herself that he was still with her, still hanging on. If only he were awake, though, and would tell her that he was alright. And that his brother was alright, too…

"Yeah, you're right. Not an ambulance or anything, though. Dang!" Greg punched the steering wheel hard in frustration. There they were trying to get the victim of a severe accident to a hospital, and what of all things did they drive into? The friggin' site where it all had happened, complete with added victims and whatever the hell else. Fantastic.

"What other car?" Brooked wanted to know now, too, dreadful apprehension nearly killing her.

"Must have gotten here not long ago. After the accident, anway," Paul mused while Greg was slowing down already, deciding whether the injured kid would be better off if they stopped here to wait for the ambulance, or if they just drove on after a short stop, assuring themselves that the others had been able to inform the cops and call an ambulance as well.

"Oh. My. God. Oh God," it escaped Brooke when finally she was able to take a glance at what the two guys had been talking about. This looked even worse than what she had imagined, and when the truth of that realization sank in, Brooke's heart sank alongside it. This couldn't mean anything good…

The road lay in darkness, except for the light coming from the truck's headlights. Everything looked strangely peaceful, the two cars in their somewhat staged positions, one on its side, the other vehicle a few feet off to its side. Two cars facing each other, their fronts smashed in, all windows cracked and broken. Brooke could make out millions of tiny shards, lying strewn on the ground, little greenish diamonds flickering as their headlights touched them briefly. A sea of fallen stars. And somewhere in their middle, so close and yet invisible, Brooke knew that Lucas was probably fighting for his life.

Lucas Scott.

And wasn't that Peyton's car?

"Oh God!" she cried out and tightened her hold onto Nathan just as Greg was hitting the breaks. As soon as he had parked his pickup truck, she gently lowered Nathan's head to the seat in order to be able to get out of the car and run toward her other friends.

_Please say that Peyton isn't…_

But no. Brooke exhaled slowly, one hand going up to her neck. There she stood, Peyton, best friend and confidante. There she was, still lightly holding onto tutor girl—Haley—and staring at Brooke out of eyes that were wide with shock and fear.

"Peyton?" Brooke called out to her then, her voice nothing but a low-key croak. Her friend simply stood there, staring on, thin shoulders shaking, until she managed one quiet "Brooke?"

"Peyton Sawyer. Are you okay? Are you alright?" Brooke asked urgently, and hugged the blonde closely. Brooke nearly didn't hear Peyton's quiet affirmation in the end. But what she said afterwards, Brooke did hear all too clearly.

"I'm okay. But, Brooke: Lucas is… the ambulance is on the way, but it's taking them forever. Haley and I have only just arrived here a few minutes ago, but… God, Lucas really needs a doctor, and—and—God this is so horrible—he was driving Nathan home, Brooke, and we found all this blood, but Nathan's not here, he's—we need to find him, Brooke!"

Peyton, tense and ramrod straight, stood facing her best friend, fisted Brooke's top, her fingers digging into Brooke's flesh uncomfortably, but both girls hardly seemed to notice it. The blonde's eyes, so wide and frightened, never once left the other's face.

"Sssh, Peyton. Peyton!—P. Sawyer, calm down. We found Nathan. He's okay, you hear? He's unconscious now but he'll be fine soon, I'm sure."

She wasn't aware of the look Haley gave her as she mentioned Nathan being okay and she didn't hear tutor girl's deep inhalation, or the following exhalation, streams of air that would otherwise have told her more than any words or actions could have done. But Brooke was only aware of some of the tension leaving her best friend and making her shiver ever stronger. She also noticed Haley letting go of Peyton's arm eventually and returning to the overturned car, saw the two guys she'd picked up at the party—or rather: who had picked up _her_—go with Haley, to check on the cars that had been in the accident. First, they went to the one closest to them, the one Brooke didn't dare look at, the one where the guys left Haley to wait. Then they went on to the other one, the one further off. Brooke saw their suddenly pale faces when they came back from that second car and knew she wouldn't want to know what they had seen. Nothing in the world could make her walk over to that car…

"Peyton, sweetie. How about you go over to Greg's truck now and check on Nathan while we wait for the cavalry to arrive, huh?" she suggested, ignoring her uneasy feeling and rather continuing to cajole Peyton. She knew what this must have been like for her, finding Lucas like that, when she was still—and always would remain—traumatized by the way her mother had died so violently. Poor Peyton…

Poor Lucas.

Lucas.

"Okay," Peyton agreed, sounding tired all of a sudden. Brooke smiled at her once again, needing all her strength for that expression, and as soon as the other one had gone over to the pickup truck, Brooke's face went blank as she tried to find the strength in her to go up to the car, go up there and see for herself how Lucas was doing.

She saw Haley standing there, bent at an awkward angle, leaning into the car. She saw Greg and his friend, whose name she couldn't recall, she saw them talk to Haley, and to someone on their cell phone.

And right when she took her first step forward, drawing in as much air as she could and still feeling like she was suffocating, right then she rather felt than heard or saw the ambulance arriving. A low rumble underneath her feet, low and distant, growing stronger, and she froze in place again.

_They're here, Lucas. Just hang in there, you hear? Hang in there, Lucas Scott._


	3. 3

_On we go…_

* * *

And right when she took her first step forward, drawing in as much air as she could and still feeling like she was suffocating, right then she rather felt than heard or saw the ambulance arriving. A low rumble underneath her feet, low and distant, growing stronger, and she froze in place again.

_They're here, Lucas. Just hang in there, you hear? Hang in there, Lucas Scott._

But the ambulance hadn't even come into full view yet, when a scream tore through the air, and Brooke gasped in shock, already running toward it before she knew what she was doing.

-o0o-

"_Please, Luke. Do it for me then, okay?" begged Haley, holding onto Lucas' lapels with both hands and staring up into his face._

"_Haley…"_

"_Please?"_

_He sighed in resignation, half-smiling at his best friend now. There she was trying to make him believe that, really, Nathan was only one among many others she tutored, and she couldn't have possibly denied him her help just because he was Lucas' idiotic half-brother… As if Lucas had no eyes to see how her behavior toward Nathan had changed during the last couple weeks. And how could he be mad at her for it? She couldn't help her feelings after all. But asking him to take care of said half-brother when the jerk managed to get so wasted he could hardly walk or stand without help? That took it all one step further. And yet he couldn't really deny her that one favor, either. After all, Haley had barely managed to pry car keys out of a nearly similarly wasted Tim, who had offered to bring Nathan home. And no matter how much Lucas resented Nathan, he wouldn't want the guy to be the victim of a drunk-driving accident…_

"_Oh, for heaven's sake, I'll bring him home, alright. God…"_

-o0o-

When Haley heard the ambulance coming she whispered to her still unconscious best friend, "They're here, Luke, you hear? Everything's gonna be fine now… they're gonna get you out of this, alright? Lucas, it will all be good again…"

She gently touched his cold and clammy cheek and was just getting up off the ground, when she heard Peyton call out from somewhere behind her,

"Nate, please! I really think you should—"

It felt like Peyton's words triggered an unexplainable reflex because Haley couldn't help following the urge to turn around, away from the car.

"—better lie down again… and not be walking around like this…" Peyton continued somewhat needlessly, because Haley, who was facing Nathan now, could tell that he wasn't even listening to his ex-girlfriend's pleas. She stared up into his clouded face, noticed how battered he, too, looked. She wanted to touch the side of his head where she noticed traces of half-dried blood in his hair. She wanted to pull him in for a tight hug, following yet another weird instinct just as she heard a pained moan coming from somewhere behind her—from in the car... Nathan's gaze fell upon her for a second then, before he hurried past her to get to the vehicle.

"Nathan…" Peyton called him again, sounding unsure, as she looked to Haley for help. But what was Haley supposed to do? There was only so much she _could_ actually do, and keeping Nathan from helping her with Lucas was nothing she felt up to, especially now that she felt scared to actually face her finally awakened friend.

So she watched the younger Scott slip into the wreck and check the spot where his brother's leg was still fused to a part of the car's interior. She wanted to offer to help him but found that she couldn't move, or even speak. Instead, she exchanged mute glances with the still shaking Peyton, who was hugging herself against the cold of the night air—and the cold of shock.

Only a minute now and help should be there, and still Haley prayed for the medics to get to them faster. They needed to get Lucas out of there, and soon.

They couldn't arrive fast enough…

-o0o-

When Lucas next opened his eyes, he felt like everything around him had somehow changed. The light looked different, his position felt way worse than before. He had the horrible sensation of being drained, of being deathly tired. It was so hard to concentrate on anything, and he noticed that, strangely, his thoughts seemed to spiral down a path of abstraction rather than trying to hold on to the more concrete things, like where he was, who was with him, what had happened to him, what would happen next, where was…

… Nathan. Suddenly Lucas' gaze focused right on his brother and he was aware enough to wonder what might have happened that Nate was back again all of a sudden, for hadn't he been gone before? Gone to get help?

"N-nate?" he whispered, his voice not much more than a rasp. He wanted to extend a hand and touch the other one, make sure that he wasn't hallucinating due to the blood loss—which had to be severe by now. But his arm simply wouldn't move. And then Lucas heard the sound of sirens from somewhere out there, and turning a little too eagerly, the steel of the steering wheel tore at his damaged leg again. Being too weak after all those minutes—hours?—of waiting nailed upside down to his car, Lucas couldn't stifle a loud and pain-filled scream.

When Brooke heard Lucas scream like that she felt like her heart was being ripped right out of her chest. She remembered that she was supposed to be mad at Lucas for having flirted with Peyton earlier that night. She knew she was supposed to be mad at her best friend for the same thing. But what was the sense in that if Lucas' screaming might be the last thing she'd ever hear of him? And what was the sense of being mad if being mad only meant hurting _herself_ because it would keep her away from the only thing she wanted to do right now, which was being there for Lucas, being close to him, holding him?

There really was no sense in all that—and hearing that piercing, heartbreaking scream therefore sent her straight to the car—and to the guy she loved. No matter what people might think, no matter what she might want to think herself. She loved him, and it was at that very moment that she finally understood just how much.

"Lucas!" she called out even before she arrived at the car and pushed her way through Peyton's and Haley's halfhearted attempts to hold her back. "Lucas!"

And what if he died now? What if he was dying and she…

Brooke's gaze fell on the shattered windshield then, and for the first time that night she took a proper look at Lucas Scott. It was surreal: he was basically dangling from his seat, although Nathan appeared to be trying to hold him in a less awkward position than that. But what with him only being able to use his one arm for that, the outcome wasn't all too great either.

Lucas had stopped screaming by then, Brooke could hear him whisper a shaky apology. And suddenly his eyes met hers and she felt herself stiffen yet again.

"Lucas Scott," Brooke whispered. She felt Haley's hand on her shoulder, heard tutor girl ask something, even though she couldn't follow her words, too focused was she on Lucas. Brooke desperately wanted to say something light and cheery to him. She wanted to playfully scold him for making such a mess of himself, of his car. But all she could say was, "You scared me, Lucas…" before tears finally welled up in her eyes and she gently cupped his pale face in her hands. And lowering her forehead to his, she wallowed in the feeling of his breath against her skin, just when behind her a voice called out,

"Move, please. Move!"

As if stung, she followed the order and moved away, backwards, past Haley and into Peyton's arms, making room for two men. She distantly noticed how short one of them was, while the other could definitely do with a haircut. And still, she had never in her life prayed for anyone's arrival more sincerely than for theirs.

And thank god they were finally here.

Cupping her mouth with her hand, and allowing herself to lean more into her best friend, she finally started crying for real. "Oh god…" she made, and suddenly it was Peyton consoling _her_, turning her around, staring into her unseeing eyes, and wrapping her arms around Brooke like their stupid fight had never happened.

-o0o-

"I'm fine," Nathan pressed out between clenched teeth, while he was staring past the medic attending to his arm. While he was only reluctantly allowing the man to inspect the injury, his gaze was locked on the wreck of Lucas' car, where a rescue team was now cutting through the metal. They still hadn't managed to get Lucas out of there, and though Nathan would be the last one to admit it, he terribly worried for the older one's life. What if he died in there? What if he died and only because he had conceded to bringing Nathan home? When actually he had surely planned to stay at the beach for a little while longer, until that other car would have long been gone from that road…

"This is going to hurt now," the medic was saying, but Nathan wasn't paying much attention until a searing heat ran up and down his arm and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from gasping out in pain.

Oh god, and Dan, Dan would kill him. For being stupid enough to get hurt in a car accident. For…

Those kids in the other car, Nathan couldn't forget their faces—what had been left of them. All that gore, it had been everywhere. Everywhere.

"Nathan?" Haley stood a few feet off to the side of the second ambulance. It had arrived not long after the first, along with the rescue team and the police. She was hugging herself, but all she really wanted to do was hug that dark haired boy who stared at her now like she were not really there. Like he didn't really see her.

She knew it was a stupid thought—an atrocious thought, even—but she couldn't help feeling left out somehow. She was Lucas' best friend, but still she had been shoved to the side by the medics, and by Brooke. Weirdly, Haley had felt like she had no right to be as inconsolable about Lucas' state as Brooke, or even Peyton, with whom Lucas had had something going on at some time, too. But Haley—Haley had always "only" been a friend… She felt for Brooke, she truly did. The cheerleader really did seem to love Luke after all, and who was Haley to judge her for being selfish about it, about Lucas? Who was she to judge, when all _she_ wanted to do now was be completely selfish, too?

Nathan was looking past her again, his freshly bandaged arm lying in his lap now, while the medic was treating his head wound. Or: trying to, for Nathan was continuously trying to back away from the man, until he sighed in resignation and addressed Haley,

"Hey, um—"

"Haley."

"Haley, okay. Do you think you could make your friend here cooperate just a little? I'm only trying to help here, maybe you could…"

"Uh—sure. I…" Haley stared from the medic to the younger Scott brother and back again. What kind of relationship did the guy think they had? She was lucky Nathan had started doing what she told him when it came to English grammar—or math. But other than that? And when he was like _this_?

"Nathan?" she called his name again, walking a little closer to where he sat. She had to repeat it another time, before he finally turned to her. The look in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. He was still the same guy she tutored, she could see that. But she could also see a little more of what he was always so desperately trying to hide from her—from everyone. He was just a frightened kid, too, just like everybody else. And right now he was probably the most scared kid she had ever seen.

"Let the medic do his work, okay?" she whispered and carefully extended an arm to touch him, ever so slightly. He didn't flinch. Her fingers lightly grazed the bare skin of his uninjured forearm, a soft, un-intrusive touch. Already he was staring ahead again, but he was sitting still for once. When she was sitting down beside him, her arm and shoulder touching his, the medic wordlessly thanked her, and she smiled a little sadly.

Nathan didn't say one word. He couldn't. And he was glad that tutor girl didn't press him. She just sat there, and that alone was enough for it all to be at least a little more bearable.

That feeling only lasted a minute, though, until another clipped scream cut through the night, and Nathan startled to his feet, batting away both Haley and the medic, and ran to where the rescue team was finally lifting Lucas out of his seat before lowering him onto a gurney, Brooke never far away.

The brunette latched onto Lucas like he were her lifeline. And in fact it was Lucas who whispered to her that it was alright, everything would be alright—like it was Brooke who had been in the accident rather than the other way around. And Peyton's usually self-confident best friend smiled weakly at that while holding Lucas' hand.

Nathan reached the gurney right before his older brother was eventually being wheeled away. He was half aware of Haley coming up right at his side and stretching out a hand to grab Luke's. The one Brooke wasn't clinging to.

"Hey…" said Haley and Lucas together, the latter's voice raspy and weak from his having cried out.

Suddenly, Nathan felt awkward, like some sort of intruder, and his eyes met Peyton's. His ex stood not far to the side, and yet she appeared to be no part of all this either. Weird, thought Nathan, and shouldn't he feel more of a connection with her then? But he _did_…

Absently he wiped an arm across his face, trying to clear his suddenly blurry vision. It took a moment for him to realize that someone had called him again. Not Peyton.

"Nate?"

"Nathan? Are you okay?"

Lucas. And Haley. He stared from one to the other, half smiling, when he noticed the concern in tutor girl's pretty face. She never looked at him like that. He was no guy you looked at with that expression on your face. And yet she was not the only one doing it.

"Nate? You alright?"

It was then that he laughed, if a little weakly, and muttered, "Asked the guy lying on a friggin' gurney…"

And after that?

No memory. Until he opened his eyes to the white tiles of a hospital room's ceiling.


	4. 4

_Of hospitals and romance...**  
**_

* * *

_No memory. Until he opened his eyes to the white tiles of a hospital room's ceiling_.

And gradually, the memories returned.

-o0o-

Brooke really didn't feel like sitting anymore. She had been sitting in various places in the last hours. The time she had spent sitting down somewhere or other would probably add up to a complete day of sitting, interrupted only by a handful of things that had forced her to get up for a few minutes.

When first she had sat down, Brooke had accompanied Lucas in the ambulance, where she had sat by his side the whole way. She hadn't given much thought to the fact that it had been her who had climbed into the vehicle, instead of Peyton, or Haley. She had just done it. And strangely, the other two girls hadn't questioned her right to do so for one second. So it had been Brooke who sat there, right by Lucas Scott's side. She had been the one holding his hand as long as the paramedics let her. And all the while she had tried to smile for Lucas, had babbled about things she could no longer remember for her mind had been—and still was—preoccupied with a terrible fear for him. Brooke tried to forget the moment when he had passed out again and she had been forced to let go of his hand.

But that was over now. Now she was sitting right by his hospital bed's side, staring intently into his pale, exhausted face and waiting for him to wake up. She had been sitting there all night since Karen Roe had allowed her to do so.

"_Please, Ms. Roe. Can I please sit with your son?" Brooke asked in a small voice, her eyes downcast as if she feared to look at Lucas' mom—as if she feared _rejection_._

_But Karen smiled and gently put a hand out to hold the girl's for a moment. Karen felt too exhausted to even wonder about all the girls asking her permission to go see Luke. Haley, of course, Karen hadn't wondered about her wanting to see Luke as soon as he had come out of surgery. She was his best friend after all and Karen could not imagine a time those two hadn't hung out together, shared everything. Then Peyton. Well, if Karen remembered correctly her son had some sort of crush on the pretty blonde. And the dark haired girl? The one who was standing right in front of her now, too shy to look her in the eyes? The one who seemed to have been crying the hardest? Karen sighed tiredly. The night had been one big nightmare so far, but those girls' concern for her son was one of the sweetest things she had ever come across, just like Keith's concern._

_Brooke stared up at her finally, reciprocating the slight pressure of Karen's hand._

"_Please," she begged again, and somehow Karen could tell that the brunette was no one who often begged for anything._

"_Sure," she therefore conceded. "But please wait until Peyton has left the room, okay? He needs his sleep, and there shouldn't be too many people in the room…"_

"_Of course! Oh thank you, Ms. Roe. Thank you… I promise I won't disturb his sleep, I—I'll just sit by his side and as soon as you want to sit with him I'll leave…"_

_Karen smiled, swept a strand of brown hair out of the girl's face and nodded lightly. "Okay," she whispered, "Okay." She would have to talk to the surgeon now, and to the people from their insurance company. She would have to call school and tell them that Lucas won't be coming tomorrow—or the day after, or… Without another word Karen went past the cheerleader, desperate not to start crying right here in the hallway, in front of a poor girl who had surely seen enough drama that night to last her a lifetime. It was good to know that Lucas would not be alone as long as she was gone, but still she wished she could just sit by his side herself now and wait for him to wake up._

_Sometimes, being a single mom tore at her heart too painfully._

_Behind her, Brooke stared after her for a little while, before she went to the door of Luke's room and waited for Peyton to come out. And when she did, the girls locked gazes for a moment until both their eyes started watering again and they hugged each other, Peyton clinging desperately to Brooke, and Brooke clinging desperately to her._

"_I'll go check on Nate now," Peyton eventually said after they disentangled themselves from the embrace what felt like an hour later. It could only have lasted a few seconds, though. Peyton sounded as tired as Brooke felt herself. Tired and exhausted, and the dark shadows underneath her eyes surely mirrored Peyton's, too. It had been a long night, for sure, and not at all due to anything she had once planned to happen …_

"_Okay. And I'll…" Brooke pointed behind Peyton to where Lucas was lying in a bed and her friend nodded in understanding._

"_Yah," Peyton simply said. She tried to smile but failed. "I should go… I'm not sure Dan or Deb are even around yet, so…"_

_Brooke nodded wordlessly, she knew Nathan's parents well enough herself to question their already having arrived at the hospital. _

"_You do that," said Brooke after another minute that rang with the awkwardness of their having fought earlier. But then she added, "Peyton? About tonight… I'm not going to say I didn't mean what I said because I meant most of it and we both know that, but… it's not worth fighting over a guy, P., it's not worth it…"_

_This time, the curly blonde did manage a smile before her face scrunched up again and she croaked out a barely audible "I know…" which made Brooke hug her._

"_I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interfere. I know Lucas and you—I know he chose _you_… I'm so sorry, Brooke, it's—I'll stay out of your relationship from now on, I promise, I won't come near him if you—"_

_Brooke's involuntary laugh interrupted Peyton's sobbed out declaration and she stared at the brunette in confusion._

"_Peyton, sweetie. You don't have to stay away from him completely. I mean, he's your friend, too, I know that, okay? You know, let's not talk about this now, alright? Let's—pretend it—"_

"_Never happened?"_

"_Yes. It never happened.—We're okay, P. Aren't we?"_

"_We're always okay…"_

_Eventually, Peyton left to go find her ex-boyfriend's room while Brooke was left standing in front of Lucas'. And all of a sudden she felt too scared to enter it…_

Brooke remembered that feeling all too well, her fearful apprehension. What if Lucas wouldn't wake up—what if he did and demanded to see someone else? Peyton. His mom. Someone not Brooke… But she had eventually overcome that fear—or forced herself to ignore it, more like—and entered the room. She had found Lucas lying in bed, looking as pale as the sheets that covered his bruised and broken body, peculiarly leaving his left leg uncovered for her to see the extent of his injury. She had started crying again then, if silently. She had approached his bed slowly, afraid of waking him up with the noise she was making. Then she had sat down on the plastic chair that someone—Karen, presumably, who had sat with her son for a while after he had first come out of surgery—had placed there.

She was still sitting there now, hours later, holding his warm hand in hers, waiting for him to wake up. Karen had returned eventually and Brooke had stood up almost instantly in order to leave, but Lucas' mom had indicated that she could stay if she so wished.

Of course she did. And so she was sitting here and watching dawn break, while Karen had gone out to talk to the doctor once again, when suddenly she noticed Lucas stir. Gasping out in excitement she leaned over in her terribly uncomfortable chair and whispered his name.

"Lucas?"

It felt odd and close to wrong to speak after hours of silence, and Brooke was not even sure she was supposed to cajole him into waking up or whether she should better remain quiet. But she couldn't _not_ call his name. She pressed down on the call button vehemently, praying for the hospital personnel to hurry, while she said his name again, louder this time, and a little more insistent.

And finally, he struggled to open his eyes, his eyelids flickering a few times before he finally managed it and his clouded gaze found hers.

"Hey…" said Brooke, too glad to see him awake to notice that tears were running down her cheeks again.

"Brooke?" Lucas' voice came out as barely a whisper and rang with the confusion he felt. What had happened? Where was he, where was— He tried to push himself up from his lying position, but a strange weakness and the gentle push of Brooke's hands against his chest prevented him from doing so. Exhausted from having done nothing, really, he fell back against his pillow and stared up at the pretty brunette.

"Sssh, Lucas," she was shushing him, her hands still on his chest. "I just called the doctor and I don't want you to exert yourself too much already, Lucas Scott. You understand? I do not want to lose you again, okay?"

"You—didn't lose me, Brooke," he whispered, smiling in confused sympathy. "I'm here…" Slowly, he managed to raise one arm and stroke her tears away. But the movement made him feel exhausted quite quickly and only Brooke gently taking his hand in hers and guiding it back down to the bed prevented his arm from dropping down heavily of its own accord.

"But I could so easily have!" it escaped her then and Lucas frowned at her vehemence and her apparent distress.

The accident, he suddenly remembered the accident, remembered the lights of that other car wavering across the whole road. He remembered clutching the steering wheel when he had realized there was no escape, and he remembered exchanging a last glance with Nathan before they crashed…

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his frown deepening, his eyes filling with unshed tears now. "Brooke… Nathan—is he okay? Is—"

"Sssh… It's okay. It's okay, Luke… he's fine" she said, her soothing tone doing its best to calm him again, just like the tender touch of her hands cupping his face, and the light kiss she placed on his forehead.

And finally, a doctor and nurse entered the room, forcing Brooke to get up again and back away a little.

"Brooke?" Lucas called out at that, suddenly weirdly scared she might leave him alone now.

"I'm right here, Luke. I'm not going anywhere…" she said and saw him relaxing a little. "I'm here…"

-o0o-

"Where's my son?" As soon as Dan Scott came in through the entrance of the county hospital he started shouting at the next best kid that looked remotely like he worked at the place, ignoring his wife's silent pleas for him to please not make this even worse by already antagonizing the hospital staff.

"Hello? Isn't there _anybody_ who can tell me where my son is?—I tell you, Deb, as soon as we have found Nathan I'm going to make sure that he's brought to another hospital because the staff here obviously lacks the required amount of professionalism!"

Deb did her best to not reward that outburst with a comment when her gaze suddenly found her brother-in-law standing close to the reception desk they were heading to now.

"Keith?" she queried just as he called out to her and Dan, but she didn't get to ask him whether he knew anything about Nathan, or about what happened because Dan was already doing his presumed best to get that particular information out of his brother and the nurse behind the desk simultaneously.

"Keith. What the hell happened?" He asked and not pausing added, directed at the nurse now, "I'm Dan Scott, I'm Nathan Scott's father—isn't there any competent person working at this damn place who can tell me where the hell my son is?"

"Please calm down, Sir, I'm already checking the—"

Dan punched down on the counter with both fists, thus making the poor nurse flinch in alarm.

"Sir—"

"Dan…" Both Deb and Keith called out, and Deb was grateful when Keith took matters into his hands. Apologizing to the nurse, he grabbed his younger brother by the shoulders forcing him to step a few feet away from the counter before he was able to shake Keith off in anger.

"What—"

"Dan. You're not helping anyone with this. You want to know what happened? Then _calm_ _down_. No one is going to allow you to go to Nathan when you are like this, okay? _Okay_, Danny?"

Reluctantly, Dan finally nodded and tried to compose himself at least a little, exchanging a quick glance with his wife. He dimly noticed how afraid she looked, and she had to be quite afraid if she dared placing a hand on his arm at a moment like this.

"Keith. Where the hell is my son? Do you know anything? Is he—"

"He's alive, Danny." Keith was smart enough to not let Dan finish his sentence. "He will be okay again soon, I'm sure," Keith added and the tears Deb had managed to hold back until then finally began to flow freely.

"Oh, thank god… Keith, do you know where he is?" Deb felt herself pulled in for a hug by her husband's brother and was glad for the little comfort his proximity offered her, if only for a moment before her fear pushed any chance of that far away again, unreachable until she would have seen her son.

"But isn't any friggin' doctor here able to tell us anything?" Dan butted in and pulled Keith away from his wife like it was his fault that no one had come to tell them anything about Nathan, yet.

"Dan."

"Mr. Scott."

Both Keith and Dan whirled around at the address, but it was Keith the doctors eyes focused on first. Dan didn't care, he stomped right up to the man in his stupid scrubs and white coat and grabbed him by the lapels. If he wasn't instantly told where to find his son he would sue this place no matter if Nathan was alive. Letting a father wait for news on his son's state of health was beyond unprofessional. It was cruel. It was—

"Dan," Keith muttered and pried Dan's hands loose. Luckily, Dan didn't put up much of a fight so that the situation didn't come any closer to escalating.

"Sir?" The doctor sounded confused, turning from Keith to Dan and back again, until Keith explained,

"He's the boys' father…"

"Well. Then I'm glad to inform you that Lucas finally woke up a few minutes ago. Come on, I'll lead you to his room. His—" He started walking, then turned and stared at Deb who had moved up close to her husband again and was now walking right by his side. "His mother is already with him.—As for Nathan—"

"Lucas was involved somehow, too?" Dan's voice sounded icy all of a sudden and didn't only seem to spook the doctor, but also his wife, and Keith. The four of them came to an abrupt halt.

"They had an accident," Keith said in explanation. "A car accident."

"Car accident.—Whose car?"

"Sir. I don't think—"

"Dan—let the doctor tell us about Nathan. Please. Doctor…" Deb did her best to stir their conversation away from such dangerous terrain, although she already knew Dan wouldn't let the matter drop until someone had told him whose car it had been and—more importantly—who exactly had been the _driver_ of that car. Somehow, Deb wasn't sure which of the two alternatives would be better for both kids.

The doctor, obviously more than a little bewildered, tried to return his focus on Deb's thread of talk and was saying "He is sleeping now, but—" when another outburst from Dan interrupted him once more.

"Was it Lucas? Did Lucas drive?"

"_Dan_," hissed Keith. He grabbed his brother's shoulders, told him to focus on what was important now: that both boys were still alive.

A short, humorless laugh escaped Dan when the truth dawned on him. Of course. If he had really needed any form of affirmation in the first place, then Keith's behavior was more than enough. The things he said—and those he did _not_ say. Dan nodded to Keith, to Deb, to himself most of all because no one else really seemed to grasp the dimensions all this had suddenly grown into. Smirking in anger, he bit out a venomous "I knew it" and demanded to know where Lucas' room was.

Hardly surprising, but no one was volunteering to do so, everyone was just trying to reason with him, to hold him back. But he was a strong man, and once he set his mind on something there was no way anyone could hold him back.

"You're not telling me? Fine, I'll find the way on my own then!"

"God, Dan!"

-o0o-

Peyton had left Nathan's room after having assured herself that he would be alright, that he was sleeping. She had sat with him for a little while, unsure whether she should stay and wait until someone else—his mother, his father even—showed up for him. But then she had had that feeling of being an intruder again, for hadn't they broke up ages ago? They were not too good at the whole stay in touch thing—not yet, and somehow she doubted that Nate would approve of her seeing him like this once he woke up. He was like that. Or rather: Dan had made him like that, always afraid of coming across as weak, afraid of showing his true feelings. It had been part of the problem that had let to them breaking up in the first place. Scratch that, it had been the reason for them to break up.

She wouldn't want to put him in a tight spot, forcing him to have to acknowledge that he was not okay in her presence, she wouldn't want to do that to him, not in his current state. Therefore she decided to leave him sleeping and maybe go and check on Lucas one more time before eventually heading home. She would have to go back to school tomorrow after all, and she had already spent the night from Saturday to Sunday without sleep…

She hadn't gotten too far when she noticed Haley linger close by Nathan's room, looking unsure and a little lost.

"Haley."

The girl smiled shyly and pushed herself away from the wall she had been leaning against.

"Peyton, hi. I—um, I saw you go into Nathan's room and thought maybe you could tell me if he's doing alright? I just—want to know before I leave. There's really no one else I could ask, his parents aren't here yet—although Keith finally reached Dan via cell phone, so luckily he will be here for him soon… I mean, Lucas has his mom, and Keith is here, and Brooke. She—um. Oh god, I'm babbling, I'm sorry, I better—"

Peyton smiled kindly at Haley. The poor girl obviously had a crush on Nathan. So help her god, Peyton couldn't help but think, for tutor girl wasn't exactly the kind of girl Nathan usually fell for. The blonde felt sympathetic and hoped Haley wouldn't get hurt eventually. Nathan had that effect on girls, even on those that never got around to confessing their feelings for him…

"That's okay, Haley. I guess we're all a little under the weather after this night, huh?" she said once she had reached the girl and stopped in front of her. She briefly placed a hand on the other one's shoulder before she continued, "It's okay to worry… The doc said Nathan is asleep now, not unconscious. But why don't you go in and see for yourself how he's doing?"

Haley's eyes widened at that suggestion and she backed away a little. "Oh, I don't think I should do that," she laughed a little, instantly berating herself for it. What the hell was the matter with her? Why was she suddenly behaving like some love-crazed teenager when not far away her best friend was lying unconscious? Why was she doing that, and in front of Peyton of all people? Peyton who was so much more experienced than she, and Nathan's ex-girlfriend to boot… "I'm—only tutoring Nathan after all. I'm not exactly friends with him. I mean, he's Nathan Scott, jackass brother of my best friend, and I'm just his—"

Peyton laughed at that, thankfully interrupting Haley's continued rant. "Exactly. _He_ is a jerk most of the time. And still you have been a great friend to him last night, Haley. Who accompanied him in the ambulance, huh? Who was worried he might come to again and be alone?—That was you, Haley. So why don't you stop pretending you aren't his friend and go to him? If it helps you, I'm sure he won't wake up anytime soon, so… Anyways, don't stand here worrying for too long, okay? I'm going home, if you want me to wait and give you a ride…"

Haley smiled gratefully. "Thank you Peyton, but you don't have to wait. I'll be fine, Keith will surely drive me home, or…"

"Sure. Good night, Haley."

"Night, Peyton."

They parted ways then, and Haley was surprised at herself when once the cheerleader was out of sight, she actually did find herself starting to walk toward Nathan's room, entering it, and even walking up to his side. She couldn't help but touch his uninjured arm tenderly, trace the forceps attached to one of his fingers with hers, before she dared to look up into his sleeping face. He didn't look peaceful like she had hoped, or oblivious. Even in sleep he still looked troubled.

She had just made up her mind to sit down with him for a little while when all of a sudden she heard Dan Scott's half-yelled _"Was it Lucas? Did Lucas drive?" _and she flinched at how clearly his voice resonated. _"Show me his room! Now!" _His voice was getting ever louder, and Haley was more than afraid it might eventually wake Dan's youngest son.

Sure enough, Nathan's frown deepened at the increasing sound. Torn between making sure he would be alright once he was fully awake, fleeing from his side before he would do so and see her, and keeping Dan from finding Lucas, she froze for a moment.

Unfortunately, that moment was long enough for Nathan to open his eyes to the tiles covering the ceiling above him before he slowly turned his head and faced her. That sort of settled the matter. Now, Haley could only use Dan's words as an excuse to run out of the room now.

But then she had to watch helplessly as Nathan, without warning, got up and out of bed with such a sudden jolt that it nearly sent him tumbling down to the floor again right away, had it not been for Haley grabbing him by the waist.

"Whoa, Nathan!" she exclaimed, holding onto him as he was struggling to right himself. "You shouldn't—Nathan—"

"Gosh, Haley. Dan's going to kill Lucas if—"

He looked so terribly convinced that Haley's skin was instantly crawling.

"—if we don't stop him. Help me get to him. Please," he said, his words barely a breath on the skin of her neck as his sudden movements took their toll and he passed out on her without warning, so fast that she couldn't do much to lessen the impact of his fall.

She couldn't possibly leave him. But half buried underneath his weight, she couldn't even reach the call button.

And Dan was still on his way to Lucas.

Oh please, no…


	5. 5

For one moment everything was on hold.

-o0o-

"_Who the hell invited you, anyway?"_

_Lucas stared venomously at the one asking that stupid question, his half-brother. Honestly, he could do without that idiot in his life. Nathan's presence really didn't help making things any easier for him—as if having to deal with Dan wasn't enough already. Or with his screwed love life. Oh, he knew he shouldn't even honor the question with a reply, but this time something in him—his pride maybe—couldn't let the matter drop. Therefore, he turned around to stare at the younger one and his cronies and said,_

"_This is an open-to-all beach party, Nathan, meaning: no invitation required… Besides, if I'm not mistaken, it's not _your_ party, or is it?"_

_Okay, so maybe Lucas _had_ sounded a little condescending. But come on, such an obvious lame attempt at provoking him, at making his anger flare up? Lucas was in no mood _not_ to get angry at the jerk, not after it had taken him and Haley almost five full minutes to stop Peyton and Brooke from having a go at each other, from fighting over _him _of all people…_

_Nathan smirked, but there was no joy in that expression, only anger._

_Lucas could definitely see what was coming and he knew he should just walk away like his mother always used to tell him when he was younger. But then again, why should he? He hadn't done anything, right? So he might just as well stay and wait it all out. Besides, Nathan didn't really look like he was in any shape to put up a good fight—if it should come to that. Lucas would have no difficulties taking him on, as drunk as he appeared to be._

"_Always with the smartass retorts," said Nathan, raising a half-empty bottle of something and passing it on to Tim, who stood right next to him. His friend grinned, took a swig out of the bottle and threw in his own two cents worth._

"_Yeah, seems to be a geek thing—I mean, just look at his 'best friend'—that tutor girl geek of yours, Scott!" he said drawing quotation marks in the air and started laughing until a shove from Nathan silenced him quite suddenly. Stunned at realizing that the "wrong" Scott had gotten angry at his remark, it took Tim a moment to get his bearings. He whined,_

"_Dude, what the hell?"_

_But already the other one had redirected his focus on the other Scott._

"_You know, Lucas, you always know everything better, don't you?"_

_Gradually, Lucas' patience was nearing an end. He didn't have to listen to the crap these guys were spitting out at him. He had already been halfway to losing it when Tim had brought Haley into all this. Only Nathan's odd reaction had prevented him from actually lunging at the jerk. It had been such a low blow…_

"_Aw, Nathan, this is how you deal with screwing up at last night's game? Or maybe with having had to face Dan afterward? Seriously, spare me with this crap. _You_ screwed up, remember? Nothing to do with me, so: I'm sorry but you can't blame everything that's going wrong in your sad life on me. Go get wasted or whatever you were planning to do, but leave me out of this." With that said, Lucas really wanted to do nothing else but get the hell elsewhere, maybe over to where Jake and a few others were making s'mores and seemingly having a much better time than Luke. Or he might go and join Haley and Mouth—or maybe even drive home. Yeah, that was probably the smartest idea. And what exactly had made him decide to attend the stupid party, anyway?_

_Just when he started walking off, though, he heard that hated voice again._

"_See?" sneered Nathan, closed the gap between them, and using force turned Lucas around until they faced each other. Lucas angrily shook him off and glared at him, just as Nathan was spitting, "You think you know everything. But you don't know shit, got that? You don't know me. You don't even know _Dan_, not really..."_

"_Oh yeah? Well, I can't say I regret that."_

"_Know what's funny? How much alike the two of you really are—"_

_It was then that Lucas finally lost it…_

-o0o-

_Okay_, Haley told herself. _Don't panic. Think_. She could do it. She would just have to try and shift Nathan's weight a little to the side, off of her. It wasn't so difficult if she really set her mind to it. She wasn't weak, after all. Therefore she _could_ do it.

Only, it did sort of complicate matters that she was terribly afraid of hurting him any further. His injured arm was practically sandwiched between their bodies and she didn't want to worsen the impact his fall—_their_ fall—might already have had on it. Sighing, she noticed that even breathing had become more difficult what with Nathan lying sprawled on top of her.

Great.

And out there Dan Scott was on his way to kill Luke—at least if she was to take his younger brother literally, which right now she felt inclined to do.

Haley tried to take a deep breath and was at least half successful. Oxygen could only help her paralyzed brain to come up with a way out of this, right? It had to, for she needed to get help for Nathan, and she needed to stop Dan, and she needed to do all of that quickly.

The best way to accomplish all that seemed to be to make her arms meet around Nathan's back, tighten her grip, and roll the two of them over as fast as possible. Easier said than done, but in the end she did manage it and found herself on top of him just when he suddenly opened his eyes again.

"Nathan. Thank god, you're awake!" she exclaimed, momentarily forgetting their awkward position. Once she did, though, she hurried to raise her body from his and tried to get up until a hiss stopped her in mid-movement.

"Nathan? Are you alright? I'm sorry if I hurt you—it's just—you fell and I…I'm sorry, I couldn't hold you and we both… we fell," she stuttered out, her voice getting ever quieter until dying out completely.

He only stared at her, wide-eyed, his face scrunched up in pain, and breathed a little too quickly for Haley's taste. Weirdly, it seemed to be his obvious distress that brought her senses back full force and let her regain her calm.

"Nathan. I'll get up now, alright? I'll slowly move over to the side, and if I hurt you in any way just let me know, okay?" He didn't so much as nod, but something in his eyes told her that he had understood her nonetheless. She was so close to him now, so close that he simply had to feel the warmth of her breath on his face just as she felt his. So close that she could see every different shade of color in his eyes, could see the flutter of his pulse in a vein in his neck, so close that only inches remained between her lips and his… Haley had to close her eyes for a second before she tried to push herself up as slowly as possible, aware of even the slightest hitch in his breathing, and reacting instantly to each and every one of them until she finally came to sit down right next to him.

"Didn't know you were so heavy, Hales," he muttered while she was already trying to assess the state of his arm—in spite of his not letting her come near it.

Deciding to ignore his snarky comment, she instead said, "Hey, let me at least see whether you'll be okay before I go and get a nurse, Scott." _And before I go and keep Dan from doing so much as try to enter Lucas' room_, she added in her thoughts.

At that, Nathan suddenly let go of his arm and used his free one to push himself into a sitting position as well.

"Crap. My dad…"

"Hey, not so fast. You know what happened last time you tried that…"

"Yeah, well. Sorry about that, I didn't mean to—I'm sorry. But right now I have to get to my father, okay?"

Haley didn't have much of a chance to reason with him. She tried it nevertheless.

"Nathan, I really don't think you should be going anywhere at the moment okay? Aside from back to bed. _I_ will go and talk to Dan, alright? Just let me call someone for you first."

"Haley, you don't know my father, he's…" Nathan trailed off as he watched her get up and head to the call button. Once he was sure she had her back to him he gave getting up a second try. Still feeling a bit shaky he managed to keep himself on his feet this time. He briefly let his gaze wander over the girl standing not far from him and wondered why she was even here, with him, and why he felt so oddly glad about that fact. But then he remembered his father's words—those he had heard before he had so embarrassingly passed out—and he said,

"If he knows that Lucas drove the car…"

"Oh Nathan, I'm sure even Dan…" said Haley without much conviction and faltered. Her gaze fell on the discarded forceps lying on the bed. Only a few minutes ago and it had still been attached to his finger. She lightly tapped the device with one finger while groping for the call button with her other hand, then finally turned around again just to discover that Nathan was already turning the doorknob in his hand. Those stubborn Scotts. And there Lucas was trying to convince her that he and Nathan had nothing in common. Right…

"I just—I don't even know if he's okay, Haley… But even if he is, no one needs Dan Scott barging into their room and…" He didn't finish his sentence, he just opened the door and with one last look at Haley walked out.

Again, Haley froze for a second.

Then she ran after him. Whatever happened, she needed to be there, be it for her best friend or for his brother that had quite peculiarly managed to get into her head, and into her heart.

-o0o-

"Hey! Hey, wait! Please wait…" Peyton heard someone call out after her. She didn't feel much inclined to do so, though. She just wanted to get out of here. She hated hospitals, she hated car accidents. She just wanted to get out of this place and leave it all behind. At least for a few hours she wanted to pretend that everything was not a complete mess.

But of course she did turn around eventually and faced a guy who looked slightly familiar.

"Thanks. Hey," he said a bit breathlessly and stopped in front of her. "The car accident over on Costello, you were there, right?"

Peyton frowned. So that's why she thought she knew him. Now that he had mentioned the accident she actually remembered having seen him there. He was one of those guys with whom Brooke had arrived if Peyton remembered it correctly.

"Greg," he introduced himself. "I was there, too…"

"Yeah, I know. I'm Peyton." She crossed her arms in front of her and waited. She didn't feel much like doing small talk with him, especially not when all they shared was one horrible experience. No, she really didn't want to talk about all that now. "Um, thanks for helping my friends back there, Greg. I really appreciate that. But, I better get going now, I…"

"I'm sorry to bother you, it's just… I wanted to ask you whether you know anything about those guys. Are they okay? I mean, will they be okay?"

Admittedly, it was kind of sweet of him to still worry about the Scott brothers, Peyton had to give him that. Smiling she said, "I guess they will be, yes. They're alive, so…" She didn't know whether they'd really be okay again. She didn't know anything about the severity of their injuries, about any possible repercussions of the accident. But what she'd told Greg was all that counted for the time being, the boys were both alive.

"Phew, that's good! Good. Well, um—need a ride or anything?"

"No, no thanks, my car's just outside. Well, I'd say it was nice meeting you, but…"

He chuckled a little, sounding embarrassed. "Yeah, same here. Uh—you know, guess there'll be a next time, soon. My family just moved here—it'll be my first day at school tomorrow. Brooke already told me you're attending the same school I'll be going to so…"

"Oh? Well then, see you tomorrow, Greg. Good night." With that she waved and finally made her way out of the building, back to her car. Somehow she already knew that Greg might mean trouble, though she couldn't put a finger to the 'why' yet.

-o0o-

Karen let go of her son's hand and frowning at the growing noises of commotion coming from the hallway she got up from her chair.

"I'll be right back, Luke, okay? Let me just check who is making so much noise out there," she said, gently stroking his cheek before leaving him and Brooke alone for a moment.

Once she had left the room, Lucas turned to face the brunette cheerleader and something in him still couldn't grasp that she was really sitting here with him after all the crap he had dealt her earlier. He couldn't give it much thought now, though, too preoccupied was his mind with what the doctor had just told him.

"Lucas. Luke…" Brooke looked at him with worry marring her features. She hadn't been there when the doctor had finally spoken to both Lucas and Karen, but she could tell that what he had said wasn't exactly what Lucas had wanted to hear. "Hey, talk to me please?"

Damn, if she continued in that understanding tone Lucas wasn't sure for how long he could keep up his composure. He needed to keep telling himself that everything would eventually get better. He needed to concentrate on the upside of things: he was still alive, more than those poor people in the other car could say. They were dead, they would probably give anything to swap places with him, be alive, have a pretty girl sit by their side and—

"Crap, Brooke, my leg…" he choked out, unable to say more, and annoyingly he couldn't stop tears from starting to well in his eyes. He could only barely manage to hold them at bay. And then he felt Brooke's gentle hands on his face and it was enough to send those darn tears flowing.

Brooke's frown deepened as she ran her fingers through the blonde boy's hair in a lame attempt at comforting him. She wished she could do anything to make better whatever had upset him so. But if he didn't tell her what it was, she couldn't do anything. Seeing him like this nearly broke her heart all over again. Oh god, she loved that guy. There was no way back now.

"Does it hurt? Do you want me to get someone?" she queried anxiously, her own eyes moistening at seeing him so distressed. But Lucas merely shook his head, then said,

"No, it's not that, it's…" Oh god, he knew he sounded pathetic. And really, he should be a little more grateful for having gotten out of all this alive. Still he couldn't forget the doctor's words, the gist of them anyway. "I might never be able to play ball again, Brooke. There's even the possibility I won't ever be able to walk properly again."

"I'm so sorry, Lucas, god I'm so sorry…" Brooke found herself crying now, too, and lost for anything to say—anything that did not sound like a platitude.

"God, I know I'm lucky to even still be here, but I…" he faltered and pressed his lips together to keep himself from sobbing. He _had_ to get a grip.

"Hey… ssh," Brooke made and for wont of better things to say or do she lowered her head until her forehead touched his. They remained like that for quite a while, until Brooke felt Lucas' breathing ease and became aware of his hand clinging to her arm. And suddenly it felt as if her power to speak had come back with just that little gesture.

Locking her gaze onto his she proclaimed, "You _will_ be able to walk again. You will have loads and loads of people helping you, cheering you on, and you will learn to walk properly again, you will get back onto the court, Lucas Scott."

There was a pause as he stared up at her, his eyes wide and clear, a pause filled with clamor coming from outside, until all Brooke heard was one uncertain whisper,

"Will I have _you_?"

She was sure her heart jumped right then and couldn't help but smile at the question. "Oh, Lucas Scott. Of course you will," she answered before her lips finally found his and she kissed him softly.

-o0o-

Unfortunately it was at that instant that the door suddenly flew open and revealed an enraged looking Dan, who had managed to fight Keith off for one moment. But Dan Scott never needed much more than _one_ opportunity and thus he had used this one pretty effectively as well. Startled, Brooke and Lucas separated and stared up at the older Scott brothers.

"Dan, for god's sake!" Keith hissed, shortly followed by both Deb's and Karen's shocked calls of "Dan!" and "No!"

"Sir!" someone shouted.

"Somebody call the cops!"

For one odd moment, they all seemed to be entwined, Dan, Keith, Karen, Deb, until Dan shook them all off again, sending Keith tumbling into the two women. He shoved even Brooke to the side. Her feeble attempt to shield Lucas from his estranged father's wrath thus only resulted in her ending up pushed against the wall, having to helplessly watch as the man stopped right in front of Lucas and grabbed him by his shirt—

"Dad!"


	6. 6

For one odd moment, they all seemed to be entwined, Dan, Keith, Karen, Deb; until Dan shook them all off again, sending Keith tumbling into the two women. He shoved even Brooke to the side. Her feeble attempt to shield Lucas from his estranged father's wrath thus only resulted in her ending up pushed against the wall, having to helplessly watch as the man stopped right in front of Lucas and grabbed him by his shirt—

"Dad!"

At hearing that yell Dan loosened his grip as if stung and stared at his hand as if it belonged to someone else. He stared down at Lucas lying in his bed, wide-eyed. He stared over to where Nathan was suddenly standing in the doorway, then back down at his hand.

"Nathan!" he heard Deb exclaim, only to echo her instantly.

"Nathan," he whispered genuinely surprised at his son's sudden appearance and turned around to fully face him. He wondered how the hell he could have forgotten to check on him first before… before demanding an explanation regarding the accident from Lucas.

"Nathan. Are you okay?" Dan finally queried just as he became aware of all the people he had apparently alerted to himself, the doctor only one among them.

"Sir?" the man called out warily and Dan nodded, saying "It's fine. I'm not going to do anything, alright? No need for the cavalry, really. You can tell them to leave, okay?" Raising both hands in a gesture of surrender he tried to convince various hospital staff members as well as his own son that he meant no harm, that he was posing no threat to anyone. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Keith had been helped up by Karen and Deb and was now keeping the latter from running to her son and surely crushing him in a desperate hug. He chose to ignore the three of them for the moment, though, because all that counted now was Nathan's health. Apparently he was fit enough to walk the hallways again, so Dan concluded that everything couldn't be as bad as he had initially pictured it in his mind. Coming yet a little closer, he was bewildered at seeing Nathan flinch away from him. He extended an arm to lay a hand on the kid's shoulder, but Nathan only backed away further still and glared at Dan.

"Sir!"

"What the hell, Dad?" Nathan hissed and with his body he shielded Haley from his father, thus making sure Dan wouldn't attack her too.

"Nathan…" Dan pleaded. He noticed how awkwardly his son was holding his arm, which was dressed in heavy bandages, and he indicated the obvious injury asking, "Does it hurt?"

"_Does it hurt_?" Nathan repeated spitting the words out, and his voice rang with incredulity. "Dad, you just shoved everyone out of the way, you sent Keith to the damn floor to—what?—_throttle_ Luke?—and you ask me if it _hurts_? God, what the hell is _wrong_ with you!"

"Kiddo…" soothed Dan and made another attempt at putting a reassuring hand on Nate's shoulder, but again to no avail. He only alerted the stupid clinic personnel to his doings and would probably have to thank Keith later-on for preventing them from coming at him then.

"_Dan_…" his brother muttered, then hurried to assure the others, "I got it now, thanks." Already he was leading the younger one off to the side and added, "I'm sorry for—all the commotion we created, but my brother is not going to do anything now, I'll see to that. _Right_, Dan?"

Reluctantly, the addressee of those words nodded his consent. It seemed to be the only way for them to get rid of their audience eventually and besides, Dan's common sense had kicked back in by that time. He knew that what he had been up to doing only a minute ago could have completely undermined his good reputation for good. And of course that was not an option. So he nodded again, showed the idiots his hands, allowed Keith to tighten the grip on his arm, and said, "I'm sorry, okay?" He tried to put some true conviction into the words and knew he had succeeded when the doctor finally herded the other people wearing scrubs out of the room.

"I want all of you to leave this room," the man ordered, his voice sounding eerily calm. "Now. This is a _hospital_, it's no place for any of you to fight their personal fights." He glared at the group of adults with their downcast eyes, then focused his attention on the boys' father. "My patient—your _son_— needs to rest, Mr. Scott. And if you don't want me to call the police and have you arrested you will leave now. I won't allow you back in the room unless I'm completely certain you won't cause the boy any more harm."

"Of course, Dr.—" Dan risked a glance and deciphered the man's name, "Carver. I'm sorry."

"You better be. Your behavior was completely inappropriate, and I won't have you behave like that around my patients ever again. Now go. All of you.—And Nathan: you really shouldn't have gotten up. You need to stay in bed.—Sandra, lead him back to his room and make sure he'll stay there until I have checked him over again. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Yes, Dr. Carver.—Nathan?"

It took Nathan a moment to realize someone was talking to him, but he wasn't ready yet to leave. First he had to make sure his father was really going to leave the room. And he had to make sure that Lucas was alright.

He was only half aware of someone slipping their hand into his and gently clasping it, tugging at it.

"Come on, Nathan, it's alright," he distantly heard Haley whisper and stared down at her. Then he raised his head again and his eyes met Lucas's.

"You okay?" he asked and saw the older one nod. Brooke was holding onto Luke's arm, eyeing Nathan suspiciously. Or maybe he was only imagining that. Just as he might be imagining seeing panicky desperation in his mother's expression, Keith's tired anger, his father's look of—hurt?—Lucas's compassion, and pain.

"Let's go…" Haley whispered again, waving to Lucas now while tightening her grip on his brother's hand. "I'll come visit you tomorrow, Luke, okay?"

And finally, Nathan saw them all leave, his mom, Keith, his dad, even Karen, and he found that he could leave now, too, follow Haley and that nurse back to his room—one night more in this darn place surely wouldn't kill him, and he was so damn tired anyway, so…

-o0o-

_Haley laughed and shoved Lucas away in response to his last stupid remark. They were on their way back home, finally getting away from the stupid party that had ended in a near disaster once Lucas and Nathan had started fighting earlier. Luke was already sporting a heavy discoloration around his eye as a result, but at least he had regained some of his good mood by the time they had decided to call it a day and drive back to Tree Hill._

"_And anyway, which girl would _not_ fight over a guy like me, eh?" Lucas laughed and chased her across the parking lot. "Come on, Hales, you know you would, too!" he called, nudging her side playfully when she said, "Oh shut up, Scott!" Grinning widely she shoved him away again, using both hands, when suddenly her gaze fell on a figure sitting slumped against a car tire, and her movements froze._

"_Aw, see? You're giving in. Finally! That's the smart girl I know." Lucas came back to her, lightly put an arm around her shoulder, and waited for another snarky comment. But Haley remained silent._

"_Hales?" he asked and eventually followed her gaze to where he could see Tim struggling to open his car's door. The guy looked even more drunk than last time he had seen him, and Lucas absolutely didn't feel like having to listen to the crap again that usually left the guy's mouth. Once had been more than enough already. But the idiot was trying to get into his car—drunk as he was, and that was something Lucas couldn't ignore even if he wanted to. He sighed in annoyance and passed his best friend a glance._

"_Darn that idiot. We can't let him drive like that."_

"_No…" Haley agreed, sounding absent, though, and Lucas noticed that her gaze was focused on something other than Tim. Cocking his head a little, he saw what it was—or rather _who_ it was—and hissed out a stream of air. Great. What was worse than one wasted guy trying to drive himself home? A wasted guy trying to drive himself and his wasted jackass friend home. And if that wasted friend was Lucas's stupid half-brother to boot, then everything was just plain old awesome._

"_Goddammit, Tim!" he called out as he disentangled his arm from Haley. "What the hell do you think you're doing, huh?"_

"_Well, if that ain't Lucas Scott, the smartass geek himself!" exclaimed Tim and grinned, slumping against his car in an effort to stay upright._

"_Give me your keys, you jerk."_

"_Nope. Sorry, no can do. This baby's not gonna go in any geek's hands." He patted the roof of his car, then glanced down at his friend. "Besides. I have to get Nate home before that stupid dad of yours finds out he was… he went—to the party, and…"_

_Suddenly, Nate's cute but geeky tutor came right at him and with oddly fast movements managed to steal the car keys from him, stunning him into awed silence._

"_You're not driving anyone anywhere, Tim."_

"_Uh," he made, trying to get his sluggish tongue to move, trying to get his sluggish mind to function. "You guys don't understand… I need to get him home. Now. Dan's gonna be pissed if Nate doesn't come home within the next two hours, 'kay? Dude just called and threatened to have both me and Nate here killed _and_ thrown out of the team—in that order, got that? So…" He turned around again and tried to open the door, seemingly having forgotten that he needed his keys for that. Once he noticed it, the girl, Haley, had already passed the keys on to Lucas and knelt down beside Nate. From what Tim could tell she had apparently started pep talking the guy into showing some sort of reaction. More than Tim himself had managed in the last couple minutes._

"_Nathan. Can you get up? Come on, we need you to get up now, okay?" Haley said as she placed both her hands on his cheeks. "Nathan… at least look at me, will you?"_

"'_m sorry Hales, too tired. Just—leave me alone, 'kay?"_

"_No. Nathan. Your dad's waiting for you, okay? We need to get you home."_

"_Crap, no. Not home. He's just gonna kill me anyway. I don't wanna go home… I don't—I can't take this anymore, not tonight…" Nate whispered, his thick voice reaching even Lucas who had bent down to him by then in order to hoist him up into a standing position._

_Haley looked at Lucas with concern and he couldn't help but wonder what exactly Nathan might have done to make a smart girl like Haley fall for his shallow charms. Shaking his head in disbelief, he clasped his arms around the younger one and pulled him upwards until he was at least balancing on his own feet._

_I'm doing it for Haley, Luke had to remind himself when Nathan's head lolled against him, I'm only doing it for her…_

"_God, Nathan, you're heavy," he pressed out between clenched teeth as he tried to come up with a solution to this new dilemma. "Haley, go and find Peyton, okay? Maybe she can bring him home, She's his ex after all, so Dan might, you know…"_

"_Oh please, Lucas. You can't dump that on her, now can you? It's... you don't do that. Let's—you bring him home, okay? Lucas?"_

"_Ugh, Haley? It's not my business. He's—"_

"_He's your brother, Luke. And you know what Dan is like."_

"_Don't, Haley. Okay? Just—don't. So what if he _is_ my brother, huh? It's not like that ever mattered to him in the past, right? So why should it matter to me now all of a sudden? It _doesn't_," he stated forcibly and with more anger than he had known he felt._

_Haley eyed him, with one hand absentmindedly fisting the back of Nathan's shirt and her imploring gaze slowly got through past all of Lucas's defenses. That girl…_

"_No. Haley. Alright, not Peyton, okay? Jake, then…"_

"_Luke, please. He is your brother if you want it or not. Do it for him. Maybe…"_

"_Guys, care to give a guy back his keys here?—No?" Tim tried to butt in, but neither of the two paid him any attention. And what the hell? He might just as well grab another beer before leaving then…_

"_I told you I won't do anything for him!" Lucas bit out, his voice tinged with all the venom actually directed at his oblivious half-brother. But now it only hit his best friend._

"_Please, Luke. Do it for me then, okay?" Haley suddenly begged, holding onto Lucas' lapels with both hands and staring up into his face. Only briefly Lucas was surprised at how well she knew him, how well she could manipulate him._

"_Haley…"_

"_Please?"_

"_Oh, for heaven's sake, I'll bring him home, alright. God…"_

-o0o-

The doctor waited until nearly everyone had left Lucas Scott's room before he went up to the kid's bed and asked,

"Are you alright, Lucas?"

"Just peachy, Doc," Lucas weakly said and looked from Brooke to the doctor, noticing the man smile.

"Good," Carver said, quickly checked his patient's vital signs, and wrote something down onto Lucas's chart. Then he glanced at Brooke and smiling noted, "You know, Miss, I'm quite certain I asked everyone of you to leave…"

Brooke's eyes widened and gave away her true feelings when she switched on that famous flirty posture of hers and playfully said, "Aw, Doc, I'm not _every_one, am I? I really think one exception won't kill anyone, don't you think so too?" She smiled, white teeth flashing, and lightly placed one hand on his arm, and Carver had to admit that she was pretty good at what she was intending to do, persuading him to let her stay. But really…

"I'm sorry, Miss—"

"Brooke. And don't be sorry, just let me stay… I promise I can be as silent as if I weren't even here. Okay? Please?…"

Sighing, he exchanged a glance with the Scott kid, assured himself that he really was alright and wouldn't mind the brunette staying with him. But all he could see was Lucas's exhaustion, and something else his father's appearance had caused to mar his features with worry, or pain maybe—and this time, it wasn't physical pain. Well, maybe he shouldn't be alone right now, maybe he did need this girl to sit by his side and watch him drift off into well needed sleep. Maybe he needed her to assure that no nightmares would disturb his sleep for too long. Maybe he just needed _her_.

"Alright," Carver therefore conceded, surprising even himself with his decision. "You may stay. But: no keeping my patient from sleeping, is this understood?"

"Yes, Doc!" Brooke happily exclaimed. "I mean, Dr. Carver.—Thank you, Sir. I will just—" she indicated her chair, already lowering herself into it again, "sit here and wait. Silently. I can be very quiet if I want to. I mean—I _will_ be very quiet, I'm good at quiet. Actually, I excel at quiet." She beamed at him, her hand never once breaking contact with Lucas's arm; oh, she was so glad.

"Well then…" Dr. Carver smiled gently and retreated to the door. "I'll personally be checking on you again in a bit, and I better not find Lucas doing anything other than sleeping…" he warned, wiggling a finger in a playful warning before closing the door behind him, finally leaving Brooke and Lucas to themselves again…


	7. 7

_WARNING: the following may contain subject matter that you might not feel comfortable around, i.e. physical abuse (I got carried away a little...)**  
**_

* * *

It was three full days later that Lucas was finally able to sit up again without feeling completely exhausted and ready to sleep by the time he had managed to rest his back against the headboard. He should probably thank his lucky stars for it or something, but he didn't feel up to thanking anything or anyone as it were, because really? Everything was a complete mess. His damn leg hurt like hell every time the bossy nurse insisted that he'd already had enough morphine shot up into his body to last him the rest of the day—which happened _every_ day and basically caused each and every one of them to stretch on for even longer than they would have done anyway. Then she went on to change the dressings covering his wound with way too little care. Lucas had to wonder about the fact that seemingly no patient had complained about her, yet. But in spite of himself neither did he.

Further, now that the weekend was over school had started again and he was not only missing classes and practice but also Brooke had no longer as much time for visiting him and neither had his friends. This, in turn, meant that the already unbearably long and pain-filled days had begun to be incredibly boring on top of everything. Which was just fantastic.

Also, his mom was a complete mess because she worried so much about him. And although she'd never said a word about it the costs of his hospital stay were surely already starting to explode as well, which _had_ to be an even worse concern of hers. Not even Keith's constant presence and help seemed to make things any easier for her. Lucas was worried that if she went on like that—visiting him twice a day before and after work, then sitting down to do paperwork for both her business and the insurance company, and whoever the hell else was bothering her with insisting she pay this or that overdue invoice—she might break down from all the stress soon.

He just really needed to get out of this place ASAP. It would be better for everyone, and besides—

"Heyyyy…" Brooke suddenly interrupted his musings, her voice sounding light and happy. "How's my favorite patient doing today?"

He couldn't help but smile at her and wondered how he had missed her knock on his door, although, come to think of it, he wasn't all too sure she _had_ actually knocked first before opening the door…

"Brooke," he said and with his gaze followed her until she came to stand at the side of his bed. He adjusted his sitting position until he sat still more upright and replied, "I'm good."

She ran a hand through his hair and frowned a little. "Really? You look a bit pale, Lucas. You sure you're feeling alright? We could call—"

"I'm okay, Brooke." He smiled at her concern, smiled because only now that she was actually here did he feel the full extent of how much he'd really missed her before.

"Well, I'll believe you then. For now.—So, how was your day, Lucas Scott?" queried Brooke and without asking him for permission first settled down right next to him on his bed. With one arm leaning against the raised headboard she nestled up against him, started playing with strands of his hair, and placed her other hand on his chest. But, oh, he didn't mind…

"Where to start…" he began as he turned his head a little to face her properly, "I woke up, got one delicious breakfast delivered right up to my bed, stared at the walls for a while, was helped into the shower by a very 'cute' and," he raised his eyebrows suggestively, "—_robust_—male nurse. I stared at the walls some more, had my favorite nurse, Mrs. Kowalsky, change the dressings in that tender way of hers, _and_ stared at the walls some more. So all in all I'd say: it was _terrific_. How about your day, Brooke Davies?"

She had smiled throughout his little "report," had nudged him playfully at the appropriate places, but oddly her brightness had fallen away pretty quickly once he'd asked her back.

"Brooke?"

The hand playing with his hair suddenly stopped and she righted herself a little. "Oh, you know, the usual. Classes were boring, Mr. Howard had us write an unannounced test, some cheerleading stuff. Nothing to tell, really…"

Okay, so that did _not_ sound like Brooke at all. No new gossip? Nothing about Peyton, Bevin, or any of the other cheerleaders? No new couples, breakups, crises that she'd tell him about to distract him from the monotonous tedium of hospital life? No drama in Tree Hill High? At all? Lucas had been sure that something was up the instant she had stopped smiling. Her unusual quietness only further confirmed the truth of this to him. Taking both her hands in his he stared at her intently as if he might be able to read some of her thoughts that way, then gently called her name again.

"Brooke. What's the matter?"

Her smile reappeared, but he could see through its fakeness. "Nothing?" she suggested and tried to free her hands again, but to no avail.

"Brooke…"

"I just miss you, Lucas. Can't a girl miss her boyfriend? School's simply boring with you still in the hospital—"

"Okay. As much as I'd like to believe this were the only reason for you being upset I don't. I know you, Brooke. And the Brooke I know might have been kind enough to pretend to have forgotten that her idiot of a boyfriend does not deserve her to treat him so nicely, does not deserve it _at all_. But she would definitely never think that school was boring just because said idiot happened to have landed himself in the hospital and was not around during the day."

She sighed heavily and frowned. "Why did I have to choose the _one_ perceptive guy in this whole universe as my boyfriend, huh?" she queried and shot him an accusing glance before drooping her head in defeat.

"Hey," made Lucas and let go of her hands, just to gently cup her chin and make her look at him again.

Brooke nearly choked on the tenderness she could see displayed on his features; and God, she so wished he hadn't seen right through her. There was no way she would tell him about how that new guy—Greg—had tried hitting on her. She'd put him in his place instantly anyway and had had Peyton swear not to tell Luke about it as long as he was still in the hospital. He had enough to chew on already, what with his leg being so terribly injured.

But then there was that other issue… And she couldn't _not_ tell him about it, not now that he had actually sensed that something was not alright. She was indeed upset.

"Oh, Lucas, I…" Brooke flinched and bit her lip. She raised her arms again, buried her fingers in his hair, and leaned her forehead against his, although she knew she was probably only making it harder for him this way. Sighing again, she continued, "It's, you know.—After your car crash and everything no one really noticed it at first, not like in 'notice it and wonder,' anyway. Oh, god we should have. We should have connected the dots earlier…" she berated herself and stopped again. She didn't feel it in her to say it, to tell him, but then Lucas softly whispered her name again and she felt his warm and comforting hand on her neck, in her hair.

She cleared her throat. "Lucas, that other car… the one that crashed into you… Tim was driving it." Her voice was a mere raspy breath by now as she said, "He's dead, Lucas…and so is Bevin… and two other kids from our school who have been in the car with them…"

Lucas suddenly backed away from Brooke and stared at her in shock. "But that's not possible," he said uncomprehendingly. "Haley and I—we took the keys from him, _we took the keys_, I'm sure we did. Ask Haley, she'll…"

Brooke was crying now, she hadn't been able to hold back the tears any longer and seeing Lucas's sudden distress at her words nearly even made her break out in sobs. She had known he would find a way to blame himself for it somehow.

"It wasn't _his_ car, Luke, it belonged to one of the other kids. You couldn't have done anything to prevent—"

Someone abruptly opened the door and sent it banging against the wall, making it instantly shut again, which interrupted her mid-sentence and she turned to see Dan Scott enter Lucas's room.

-o0o-

Dan Scott was no man to back down easily. He was a man who only backed down and stopped himself from doing something if he knew he was wrong in some way, be it wrong about the way he approached a problem or the nature of the problem, or wrong about taking into consideration the possible repercussions of his not backing down under the given circumstances.

Still, it did not necessarily have to mean that he wouldn't find another way, another time and place to get back at the problem. And today, Dan thought, was a perfect day to deal with his most current one. Especially now that he had learned of what else had surfaced during the last couple days: Nathan's best friend had died in the car accident. And Dan still hadn't seen so much as one policeman in Lucas's room thus far. No one had asked the kid what he had done, no one had confronted him about any of it!

High time that Dan took matters into his own hands and forced Lucas to tell him what the hell he had been thinking that day, driving Nathan home. The boys didn't even like each other, but Lucas had chosen to drive Nate home? In the exact same night they ended up crashing into another car? Of all possible nights the boy had chosen that one? If that didn't scream something was wrong, Dan didn't know what else did.

Therefore, he had chosen to visit Karen's son again. He had even thought of assuring himself beforehand that the kid wouldn't die on him if things should get a little… rough… which of course could happen with that stubborn son of hers. Like mother, like son.

Barging into the room, he was momentarily put off by finding someone else in the boy's company, but quickly reset his mind to what he had come here for in the first place and stomped right up to Lucas's bed. One person didn't make much of an audience, and besides, Lucas's company was that teenage slut Brooke. Dan had difficulties seeing much of a threat in _her_.

"Mr. Scott!" she was just exclaiming and jumped out of the bed, frantically searching for something. He grinned once he figured out what that was and beat her to finding it. The call button. Then, he grabbed Lucas's shirt like he had done once before, and this time, he didn't let go. This time, there was no Nathan to stop him, no doctor, no Keith, no Karen, no Deb. Just that little bitch. And, honestly, she didn't pose much of a threat, not when she basically stood there, frozen, and was only watching.

"If I were you, Ms. Davies," he therefore sneered and shot her a glance before returning his focus back on the blonde boy lying in front of him, "I'd leave this room. Right. Now. Go and lie down in another patient's bed if this is what turns you on these days."

He hadn't quite anticipated Lucas's reaction, though. He hadn't been prepared for the kid's sudden attack and thus didn't duck in time for it so that the boy's fist collided with his face.

Grinning humorlessly, Dan straightened and wiped away the bit of blood that he had felt running out his nose. It was not much. "I'm sorry, does she mean anything to you?" he asked in mock concern, then bent down again and shook Lucas. "Still a little weak, are we?" he hissed while Lucas was struggling to fight him off.

"We need help in here!" that Brooke-girl suddenly started yelling, "Somebody!"

And when eventually she apparently even decided to join their little get-together by throwing her arms around Dan's neck in an attempt to distract him, he finally did start to get annoyed at her. Letting go of Lucas for a moment, he turned around, grabbed both of Brooke's arms forcefully, and made her unclasp her hold on him. Once he had succeeded in that, it was easy for him to regain control of the situation. And when he had it back, he grabbed her and shoved her into the wall—hard. Quite instantly her muscles went slack and she fell from his grasp, coming to lie on the ground in a still half propped up position as if she were merely sitting there, with her back against the wall. If it weren't for her lolling head…

"No! Brooke!" Lucas cried out and tried to lift himself up off the bed, gasping and falling back against the headboard when he jostled his damaged leg too much.

It was Dan's cue to return his full attention to him. Wiggling a finger accusingly, he scolded Luke, "I wouldn't do that, Lucas. Weren't you told to keep that leg immobile for a while? You don't want to mess up all your chances for it to get better, now do you?"

"YOU—" Lucas bit out, his nostrils flaring in anger. "If you hurt her any—"

"Aw, Lucas. She's just unconscious. Calm down. Besides, I'm not here for her. I'm here for you," explained Dan, and walked up close to the bed again until he could hear the kid's labored breathing, could see the mixture of concern and fear shining in his eyes.

"Hurt much? Does it?" Dan said, and followed Lucas's arms down to where his hands were clutching the bandaged leg. Slowly, he extended a hand and grabbed one of the boy's wrists, eventually forcing him to let go. "If I'm not mistaken we were interrupted last time. I'd like to start where we left off," he proclaimed and eyed the spot that seemed to cause the most pain. When he glanced at Lucas's face again, Dan noticed how tense the boy had become.

"I have nothing to tell you."

"Is that so?—Now, why do I think that's a lie? Eh? Can you tell me that? Why do I think you owe me an explanation as to what happened during that night? Were you drunk? Huh? HUH?" He didn't realize that he was raising his volume and thus coming dangerously close to alerting someone to his presence in Lucas's room, too intent was he on finally getting his chance to make Lucas _talk_.

"No… NO! Leave me alone! I'll call—"

"What? Are you going to call for help? Because your evil biological father is forcing you to own up to what you did? You are no Scott, Lucas. A Scott never asks for help. A Scott manages to solve his problems alone. A Scott—" he suddenly put his hand right on top of the injured leg and pushed down. Lucas's face lost all its color from one second to the next as he stifled a scream, a choking sound escaping him.

"A Scott does not get himself into such a mess.—And now you tell me what I want to hear, or…" He exerted more pressure on the leg, dug his fingers into it, all the while staring into Lucas's pain-filled eyes, all the while tightly grabbing the kid's one arm, thus effectively robbing him of any chance to shield himself.

"What exactly made you decide to drive Nathan home that night, Lucas, and end up crashing your car? Coincidence? Come one, tell me what the hell you were thinking—"

Dan was a little surprised when he got aware of all the blood suddenly staining the previously white bandages, just as he was surprised at the odd sensation when his fingers suddenly seemed to slip deeper in and Lucas merely gasped, then slumped forward lifelessly.

He was even surprised when he heard someone open the door, but not so much about who it was.

"Nathan," he said, and laughed out a short humorless sound. "Of course…"

* * *

_Thanks for reading._


	8. 8

"Nathan," Dan said, and laughed out a short humorless sound. "Of course…"

Nathan's grip on the doorknob momentarily tightened before the scene in front of him finally sank in properly. Lucas seemed to be unconscious, and Dan was standing right next to him, not even pretending to be looking for the call button, to be calling for help. Nathan clenched his jaw, angry thoughts and accusations already forming in his mind. He had been on his way to sneak out of the hospital when he had heard voices in Luke's room, loud enough for them to penetrate the thin walls, loud enough for Nathan to make out who Lucas's visitor was. He would have recognized that voice anywhere.

His first instinct had been to just walk away, pretend he hadn't heard anything, because he really didn't want to face his father—especially not with Luke around. So far Nathan had pretty effectively managed to avoid any serious confrontation by pretending to be asleep whenever Dan came to visit. Luckily, Dan Scott wasn't exactly the most caring father. He hadn't visited Nate all that often. Also, he hadn't spent any considerable amount of time in his son's room once he'd found Nate supposedly asleep. A few minutes of calling his name, cajoling him into waking up maybe, but that had been all. Therefore it really hadn't been all that difficult to deceive him, and Nathan was glad about that fact. So why did he have to have heard Dan yell in Lucas's room? Now of all times, now that he was trying to get the hell out of this friggin' place?—Why had he gotten that funny feeling about hearing Dan talk to his half-brother, anyway? It had left him with no choice to just walk away, not with that uncomfortable sense of foreboding having started to creep up inside of him. He owed Luke after all, for what he had done for him before… No matter what a mess Nathan had been, Lucas had conceded to bringing him home anyway, to spare him at least a little of Dan Scott's disproportionate rage after the screwed up game. All that felt like it had happened a lifetime ago. Still, Nate owed Luke—even if the older one had surely only reluctantly agreed to help him in the first place.

So here he was, eventually facing his father. He wasn't quite sure what he was seeing, why Lucas's sat in that awkward half slumped position and Dan—Dan was simply standing there, taking Nathan in.

"Dad?"

"It's not what it looks like," Dan explained in a calm voice like he were speaking to a five-year-old. "Nathan… Lucas passed out, but I did not have anything to do with that.—We better call for someone—"

"What have you done," hissed Nathan despite his father's assurances, not waiting for him to finish his sentence. Nathan's voice remained level. It wasn't exactly a question he was directing at Dan. He stared at his father and then let his gaze drift over to Lucas again.

"Nothing, Nathan. Believe me," Dan said. He slowly moved to lean across Lucas, but when he saw his younger son jump he held both hands up in a no-harm gesture. Careful not to let the blood on his fingers show, he shielded his stained hand by slightly turning more toward Lucas, just enough to be able to shield the hand with his upper body. "I'm just easing him down a little, Nathan. And instead of standing there like a complete idiot you should go and get a nurse in here. Now!"

Nathan eyed Dan suspiciously when the latter started to slowly lower Lucas's upper body onto the headboard. Nate had no reason whatsoever to believe anything his father said, though. And something was definitely off about all this. He just knew.

He was not prepared to see what his gaze fell on next, but if he had really needed any more proof that Luke's being unconscious in Dan's presence was not merely some badly timed coincidence, then he had gotten that proof now: Brooke was lying on the floor not far from the bed, a small but quite noticeable reddish blot staining the wall a little above her head.

"Oh god, Dad, what the hell have you done? Brooke! Oh crap, _oh my god_…" Nathan suddenly shouted in shock. "What have you _done_?" For a second he was too stunned to move or do anything. But then he pushed himself off of the door and came straight at his father. It didn't take him long to bridge the gap between Dan and himself. In an instant he had grabbed the older man by his arm, wanted to drag him away from Luke and Brooke. It was then that he noticed the blood on Dan's fingers and shoved his father away in disgust. Eyes wide, he stared at the man who was supposed to be his father. He stared at him, and suddenly he could no longer fight down the urge to punch Dan—and so he did.

This time, Dan had seen it coming, though. Quickly, he gripped Nathan's wrist and wrenched his son's arm down again. Letting out a sigh, he said,

"Calm down, Nate. Your behavior is absolutely inappropriate." His voice sounded ominously calm, thus standing in stark contrast with the viselike grip he suddenly had on Nathan's arm.

"_Inappropriate_? Dad? What have you done to them, huh? Are you telling me Brooke was already lying there like that, too, when you entered the room? Are you telling me you had nothing to do with all this, and Luke—"

Nate had tried to push himself past Dan for the last couple seconds, had tried to reach Brooke and see what his father had done to her, how bad she had been hurt, but to no avail. Dan proved to be so much stronger than he, especially now that Nathan was still dealing with the repercussions of the accident and wasn't completely up to par yet. As soon as he realized he wouldn't get far if he continued to fight his dad, he relaxed. Staring at the man in front of him, he could only see a complete stranger in him now, no trace of his father.

"Nathan."

He felt his body turn rigid again, but he tried not to move. Let Dan believe he wouldn't fight him anymore, and then…

"Will you look at me, son?"

"I'm—not your son anymore," Nathan bit out and averted his eyes. He cast a glance at Lucas's prone form, and was devastated to notice blood seeping through the bandage around his brother's injured leg.

"_Oh god, Dad_. Please say you didn't do any of this…" Nathan pleaded weakly, fighting hard to stop unwanted tears of anger from welling in his eyes.

"Well, I didn't," Dan began, but his son only huffed unhappily at hearing that. Dan flinched in annoyance—what was Nathan doing up and walking around the damn hospital, anyway? "Not exactly. I found Lucas like this—"

"_Right_…"

"—No, seriously, Nathan… I can't believe you're forcing me to explain myself like that, but alright. For the sake of your still being a little under the weather I'll tolerate your stupid behavior for now and play along.—For _now_, mind you… But you'll have to listen. Son. I did not do anything to Lucas. As I said, I found him like this. I wanted to call a nurse, but that girl—Brooke—stormed in right then and attacked me. Surely because she misinterpreted things, just like you did—No, let me finish—She threw herself at me, alright? I was only defending myself, I didn't mean to—"

"How come I don't believe you?" Nathan interrupted him, his tone challenging and cold. "Let me check on her—let me…"

"Nathan." Dan was still locking his hand around Nathan's arm in a strong grip, and placing the other on his son's shoulder he started shaking him insistently. "Son…"

"Don't you 'Son' me like that, Dad! Let me check how bad you hurt her—and _take_ your hand off of me! Let. _Go_." Nathan was livid by now. He had tried so hard to stay calm, to deceive Dan into thinking he was safe, but he couldn't rein in his anger for much longer. He just couldn't. And when he suddenly became aware of a light stir in Brooke's slumped frame, he took it as his cue to lunge at Dan and force him out of the way.

He hadn't anticipated his father's anger to suddenly flash up again. He couldn't quite believe it when he found himself shoved against the wall and staring into his father's dark and angry eyes.

"I told you to let it go, Nathan."

"What, and leave you to finish torturing Lucas? And make everyone else believe your stupid lie? What did you do to them? What the hell is wrong with you, dad? Why—"

"Don't you think it's a little odd how he ended up banging into another car that night? With you of all people accompanying him, Nathan?"

"_What_?" Nathan said incredulously. Was his father seriously implying what Nate thought he was? "You don't honestly think he did any of it on purpose, Dad, do you?"

"Why not? He envied you, we all know that."

Nathan laughed humorlessly. He couldn't believe this. It just couldn't be true. "Dad," he said in a defeated tone. He let his gaze wander from his father's face to where he saw Brooke slowly and silently push herself up into a sitting, then a standing position. She looked more than a little shaky, but once he saw her put a finger to her lips motioning for him to remain silent, he knew she was at least half on her way back to being okay again. So he returned his eyes to his father's. He didn't want to give Brooke away by staring at her and thus alerting Dan to her having regained consciousness.

"No," he therefore simply said, with his good arm trying to push Dan away.

"No?" Dan looked a little startled. "Come on, Nate, we both know that he envied you. Your place in the team, your being better at basketball. He envied us our social status, our money. He envied you your having a mother and a father—and your relationship with me."

Suddenly, Nathan couldn't help but laugh, heartfelt, startling his father even more.

"What the hell's wrong with you, Nathan?"

"With _me_? Dad? What's wrong with _me_?" he snorted. He didn't really want to say anything more, especially when thinking of the consequences their whole darn 'conversation' would surely have later-on. And still, beat, he whispered, "He definitely got over that whole envying our relationship part a while back, I'm sure…"

"What are you talking about?" Dan's voice had turned to ice very abruptly. Already Nathan felt himself being shoved further up against the wall, felt Dan's body connect with his injured arm, and he winced. But Nate didn't feel like giving in to pain, not until he was sure Brooke had managed to reach the friggin' call button and pressed it to finally alert the hospital staff.

Tiredly, he grinned at his father. The whole surreal situation they were in, facing each other as if for some sort of showdown, it was simply too much. He expected Dan to say something mean and hurtful any second now, for this was still Dan Scott, right? He just knew something was coming his way, but as long as it kept Dan from further tormenting Lucas and Brooke Nathan could hold out a little while longer. He simply had to do it, had to keep the man away from his two friends—from his brother…

And anyway, there wasn't much left with which Dan could hurt him—truly hurt him. Physical pain? He knew Dan wouldn't overdo it in that department. Nathan's health was his most valuable asset after all, right? Although his arm was really starting to hurt quite badly again by now…

"Did you know that with that crash Lucas killed Tim? Your best friend, Tim?"

There.

Nathan heard Brooke gasp, heard her say something without being able to decipher the exact words. His gaze fell on Lucas again when all of a sudden Dan let go of him as from out of nowhere Brooke punched him hard, right when the first nurse entered the room and thus unknowingly prevented the two from having a go at each other. Nevertheless, the woman did cast them a suspicious glance as she rushed right up to Lucas's side to check him over.

"What happened?" she wanted to know from no one in particular.

Nathan saw her check the blonde's pupils. He also saw Brooke shoot him a glance and mouth a "You okay?" before she returned her attention back to Luke.

Dan grabbed his arm again, though lightly for once. Nathan easily freed himself out of his father's grasp this time, and thankfully Dan didn't dare approach him again. Not now that they got company…

So that had been the thing, Nathan finally realized, slowly, as if waking out of a haze—the thing intended to hurt him.

"He killed your best friend, son," Dan quietly hissed, his stare boring into Nate. "And you are standing here accusing _me_ of doing something wrong?" he questioned, sounding so self-righteous that Nathan felt the urge to puke.

Dan had said it only to hurt him. And hurt him it did. Not like Dan had surely intended it to do, though. No, not like that at all. It wasn't like Nathan didn't already know that Tim was dead, hadn't already known it since the night of the accident. It wasn't like he didn't know of Bevin, too, and of the others. No. He did know of them all right. He had seen them after all, had seen all of them.

But he had managed to ban those memories, had managed to bury them somewhere deep in his mind, shoved them right to the back of it: all the blood, the gore, the deathly pale and lifeless bodies that once had been his friends. And now?

Now the images were all back.

Nathan could only stare past Dan, stare on to where Lucas was lying, was being cajoled into opening his eyes.

He heard himself ask whether Luke was okay, heard it as if someone else was actually asking that question.

And suddenly—if slowly—Lucas did open his eyes, looked at Brooke, at the nurse, then stared straight back at Nathan until the younger one could only lower his head to inspect the ground.

Nate heard Luke call Brooke's name, he heard them both mumble some incomprehensible words. He heard his own name being called, heard someone—but who exactly?—question his father as to what had happened, heard Dan try to lie his way out of all this once again. He heard Brooke butt in, shout over his father.

Distractedly, Nathan ran a hand through his hair, tried to even his breathing, tried to tune them out if only for a moment. He desperately needed to readjust his focus, make sure Luke and Brooke really were okay—and leave. Just get the hell away from all this…

Closing his eyes, he was hoping to get rid of the reawakened memories, but all he saw were the images of that night, burned into his retinas in merciless clarity—and Dan, standing poised over Lucas, fingers smeared with tell-tale smudges of crimson.

Suddenly, he felt a light touch on his arm and heard a familiar soothing voice call his name. Haley. But he kept his eyes closed for yet a little while longer. Tutor girl… She couldn't really be here, could she? He remembered having seen her that night, too, remembered…

And why was she always there when things were starting to fall apart around him?

"Nathan?" she repeated. "God, what—what happened? Nathan?—Lucas…"

Finally opening his eyes again, he merely stared at her, couldn't get out a word, not one.

"Brooke?" Haley therefore readdressed her question. "Are you okay? What—god, are you bleeding?"

"It's—I'm okay. It's Lucas. Dan came at him, Haley, he—he hurt Lucas…"

"Oh my god…"

She was holding onto Nathan's arm when she saw someone escort a somewhat defeated and deflated looking Dan Scott out of the room. She was still holding onto the younger Scott brother while listening to Brooke tell her what had happened in this room in the last few minutes. Thus she was able to react quickly when Nathan suddenly let himself sink to the floor without so much as a warning and came to sit with his back resting against the wall, staring into space.

She didn't say anything at first, she just reacted. Kneeling down right in front of him she tried to make him look at her, then started whispering things until finally he did look up into her face, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, his chin moving traitorously, giving away how upset he really was.

"God," he suddenly choked out, disbelief tingeing the word. "My Dad's a fucking monster. He's a—"

"Nathan…"

"He's… a monster, Haley. He seems to have basically tortured Luke, he—look at Brooke, he—crap if I—if I hadn't happened to come by, what else would he have done, what—_shit_…"

Finally he couldn't help it anymore, couldn't help himself, he was so upset. The words just died on his lips as he felt himself coming ever closer to cracking up. Feeling horribly devastated all of a sudden, he was hyper-aware of her hand touching his face, holding his chin.

"Hey…" she whispered in a shy attempt at comforting him. "But you did come by in time, right? You did. _Hey_… Nathan, it's okay…" She smiled at him compassionately just as all of a sudden he grabbed her arm fiercely—both to feel her closeness and to keep her at a distance. And eventually he allowed her to pull him toward her into a surprisingly gentle yet tight embrace. He couldn't stop the tears from coming, he had no strength left for that. He couldn't help clinging to her; and her closeness, her touch, the smell of her hair, of her clothes were probably the only things preventing him from starting to break into actual sobs…

If Haley hadn't come out of nowhere just then, if she hadn't been there… if…

But she had come. She was there... And she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.


	9. 9

Pain.

Lucas woke up to the horrible sensation of pain tearing through his leg, and for one surreal moment he believed himself to be back in the car. Panicking, he nearly called out to Nathan, but then his gaze fell on Brooke's worried face and something in his brain clicked, abruptly bringing him back to the present. Dan, what he had done to him, to Brooke. A sudden panic flared up inside of him when thinking that last thought although he knew she was still here, gently smiling down on him. Nevertheless, he tried to push himself up off the bed, tried to reach Brooke, to pat her down, make sure she really was okay.

He was only half aware of someone ordering him to lie still, but all the more aware of the soft touch of Brooke's hands on his chest.

"Ssh, Scott," she whispered, a frown crossing over her face.

"Brooke… Dan—did he, did—"

"I'm okay, Lucas… I'm okay. Don't worry about me, baby…"

"But…"

"Lucas."

She nearly sounded annoyed, and he wanted to protest because he could see the blood staining the collar of her sleeveless blouse. 'And what is that?' he wanted to ask. He wanted to put his finger on it like he wanted to run his hands through her hair, in search of the wound that bastard Dan had inflicted on her. But right then someone—a nurse?—moved his leg and his thoughts lost all coherence, the pain was so immense.

He wanted to cry out, felt an involuntary whimper bubble up deep in his throat, but with Brooke standing there, looking so worried, he fought to keep it inside. He couldn't keep tears from welling in his eyes, though. The pain was just too much to bear.

If only Brooke was really alright, he could handle the pain, could handle it all… And she seemed to be…

"Mr. Scott, the doctor will check on you in a short while, but you were lucky it seems. Whatever happened, the new damages to your leg seem to be mostly superficial. I'm afraid you'll need new stitches, though. But we'll have to wait what the doctor will say…" the nurse said and turned a little to check that the drip attached to his arm hadn't been unstuck during the past few minutes.

Lucas nodded somewhat dumbly at her, still too shocked and dazed to fully grasp what she just said, or understand what had just happened. Did Dan really…

It was then that he noticed Nathan standing a little further off, staring at him. Luke frowned as he tried to make sense of everything. Dan, Brooke, Nate… He did remember Dan barging into the room, but Nate? He saw Brooke worriedly smiling down at him, felt her gently take his hand in both of hers. The gesture oddly reassured him while he was trying to piece it all together; Brooke telling him about Tim and Bevin…

… oh God, Tim and Bevin!

Lucas suddenly looked up to Brooke for confirmation, he needed to hear it again. He needed to make sure…

He hardly noticed how hard the pain was making it to concentrate and follow one train of thought to the end.

"Sssh, Lucas. I know. It's going to be better soon, okay? Just hang in there till the doc can give you something…"

"Brooke?"

"Yes?" She gently wiped a tissue across his sweat-beaded brow, traced the vein protruding from his temple with her thumb, and waited for him to continue.

"If Dan had—if—I wouldn't have known—"

She put a finger to his lips, silencing him effectively. "But he didn't," she then whispered and lightly kissed his forehead before some commotion in the room forced her to retreat, make room for the doctor.

"Oh please!" a voice wavered into his consciousness then. "Are you honestly accusing me of—"

"Don't even start denying it!" Brooke.

For a second Lucas could only smile to himself. But quickly he was too preoccupied again with battling the suddenly excruciating pain in his leg to follow what was happening around him. He was only aware of the doctor examining the ruptured sutures. Nevertheless, he knew that Brooke was in her fighter mode. And he knew that whoever was the addressee of her anger wouldn't stand a chance… Therefore he finally allowed himself to close his eyes for a short moment and solely concentrate on fighting the pain, knowing she would be okay.

-o0o-

When Lucas next looked up at Brooke, he was relieved at seeing her seemingly unfazed by the events. He heard her mutter words to him, only half of which he actually caught, too bad was his leg hurting again, making it hard to listen to anything she said. But as long as he knew she was okay…

He didn't know what had happened to Dan although he was sure he'd heard someone—Dan?—argue with Brooke. He didn't know when exactly Haley and Nathan had left… not even to mention that he didn't even know when they had actually arrived at his room. He saw the doctor coming, though, heard him exchange a few words with the nurse, with Brooke… The man was addressing him, too, and Lucas sure as hell understood all the things he said then: that the pain would subside again, that they were giving him something for it, that Dan's doings had caused the sutures to come apart again, which would need some attending to, but that he didn't have to worry.

"Don't worry, Lucas…" those were the words he heard most clearly. But how could he not? He knew he had all the reason in the world to worry. So maybe Dan hadn't made it that much worse, but hadn't it been bad beforehand already?

He couldn't stop thinking those thoughts, not with this pain tearing through him, not with…

"See, baby? You heard the doc. It's going to be okay… it's going to be okay…" And as Brooke's soft rasp finally reached through to him, he allowed sleep to tug at his consciousness more forcefully until he succumbed to it completely.

-o0o-

After a few hours of pain-filled sleep in which Lucas had nearly managed to readjust to the level of pain again, a knock on the door suddenly woke him. He felt too drained to curse much, though his intruder sure had a bad timing. Tiredly rubbing his eyes, Luke prepared himself for whoever the unexpected visitor was, and forcing a little more strength into his voice he managed at least a half-decent "Come in."

Once the door was fully opened, Luke couldn't help but frown in bewilderment at seeing Nathan of all people entering his room. He could have imagined Brooke stealing herself past the watchdog of a nurse who always made sure that no one was staying past visiting hours. He could've imagined his mom doing it, too, or Keith—and definitely Haley. But his brother?

"Nate," said Lucas eventually, when the other remained silent for longer than felt comfortable. Nathan was lingering close by the door, keeping it from shutting completely as if Lucas might send him out again any second, and somehow Lucas had to smile at that. Because, why would he do that, right? That would have been a totally "Nathan" thing to do. But Lucas was nothing like his younger brother. Also, hadn't it been Nathan who had somehow prevented Dan from… whatever the hell the man had been up to? At least Brooke believed that it was only Nathan's appearance which had stopped Dan from hurting Luke more than he had already done before. Lucas was more than willing to believe what she said. After all, he knew Dan. Dan Scott never simply let go of anything. Besides, hadn't there been another instance in which only Nathan's timely arrival had stopped Dan from having a go at Lucas? No matter what the man had tried to make everyone believe afterward. Who was he kidding, right?

Well, definitely not Lucas.

He barely heard it when Nathan eventually muttered an awkward "Hey," but at least the guy was finally deciding it was safe to step a little further into the room. Still, he remained in close proximity to the door as his gaze met Luke's.

"I was just—you know," he nodded to the room's exit, his eyes never once leaving Lucas's face, "on my way out of here."

Lucas stared at him, his brow furrowing involuntarily. "You're leaving?" he asked. "Does anyone know about it?—I mean, did they…"

Nathan grinned awkwardly and finally fixed his eyes on the ground. "Nah… it's an AMA-kinda thing. Without the part of me actually doing the signing out."

"Aw, Nathan, don't be so stupid." Lucas knew he was in no position to protest, or judge. Still, he felt the urge to do so nonetheless. He honestly didn't think his brother should do such an idiotic thing. Although Lucas had to admit to himself that saying that Nathan was acting stupid was not a very smart move. And of course, the younger's defense mechanism had already kicked back in. He jerked his head up in a show of defiance, reached for the doorknob, and stared hard at Lucas.

"I don't think it's any of your business," he bit out, and already turning to leave he added, "But you're right, coming here wanting to see whether you're really doing okay after Dan, after—it was stupid." With that, he swung the door open and took a step out of the room.

Sighing, Lucas, called out to the younger one. "Nate," he said, and was glad to see Nathan stop in his tracks for the moment.

"I'm sorry, okay? You're right, it's none of my business, so go. Fine by me. Just…"

Nathan's shoulders tensed. He didn't turn to face the older one again, but he wasn't' leaving yet, either.

Now what, Lucas thought. Then—and he didn't know what made him do he, he honestly didn't—he said,

"Thanks. For… you know… stopping Dan…—And… for what you did for me that night, after the accident…"

Lucas stared at Nathan, watched the younger one slowly turn to face him again. He watched him lower the arm with which he had held the door open all along, and look right into Lucas's eyes. Suddenly Luke felt uncomfortably nervous and uncertain, and he cursed himself for having chosen this particular time for a 'Thank you' to his brother.

He bit down on his lips, ran a hand through his hair until surely every single strand of it stood on end. It was not easy to read anything in Nathan's features, it never was. But now? Luke didn't know what he was thinking, how he would react. And whether he had just made a complete idiot out of himself—or not—that depended solely on his brother's next reaction.

-o0o-


	10. 10 End of Part One

Lucas could have counted down the seconds until his younger brother finally decided to say something. His voice was barely above a whisper, and what he said sounded awfully beat. But it was no lashing out. Neither was he accusing Lucas of being a sissy, of being weak, or pathetic. No, nothing of the sort. He merely said,

"I didn't do anything…"

Fixing his gaze on the floor, Nathan simply stood there, motionless, clenching his jaw. Why did Lucas have to bring that night up again? Why? Nate had only wanted to make sure the guy was alright and that Dan hadn't made matters worse… He had no inclination to talk about anything other than that—about _any_thing, really…

But he guessed he should have stayed away then.

"You went to get help—"

"Wasn't much use, though, was it?" Nathan snorted, his grip on the door handle tightening painfully until his knuckles turned white.

"Nathan…" Lucas had a hard time thinking of something to say. Apparently the kid wanted to believe what he said, so what use would it be if Luke tried to convince him otherwise? He'd probably only clam up and get angry anyway.

"What? Wasn't it Haley and Peyton calling the paramedics?"

"Yes, but you—"

Just as Nathan was starting to protest yet again, Luke suddenly remembered something else from that night, remembered waiting in the car, waiting for his brother to return. From checking on the other car…

-o0o-

_It all took Nate so horribly long—walking over to that car, checking how the passengers were doing, asking them for help, for a cell phone. It took him so long that deep down Luke already knew that the sight his brother encountered couldn't be pretty._

_But he tried to ban that thought because they relied on Nathan finding a cell. And if he didn't, if things should really go from bad to worse? As being the only one of them able to walk they relied on Nate to keep his cool and be calm and focused enough to go and look for help._

_But as soon as he saw the younger one return, Lucas forgot about his words, about remaining "calm and focused." Taking in his brother's ashen face, he could only utter a clipped "What…" before falling silent again._

_Something was terribly wrong._

_Nathan could hardly look at him, his stare oddly vacant and unfocused. He was shivering, too, and Lucas didn't remember him doing so beforehand._

_Holding onto Nate, gripping his shoulders tightly, he was trying to get the shocked kid to talk, but once he eventually did say something, it made Lucas's blood curdle._

"_Crap, Luke," Nathan choked out, his voice strangled. "They're all dead in there, they're…"_

_Briefly, Lucas closed his eyes. No, he thought, _no_. But there was no time to deal with his own shock, no time for him to retreat into himself, no time for self-accusations, for Nate was shivering so hard now that Luke was afraid he might just go straight into shock. And he simply couldn't let that happen, not when there was no one else around, not when Nathan passing out again, his body succumbing to shock, could mean his death—and Lucas's…_

_Not once did Luke think of their rivalry, of the fact that they didn't like each other, fought each other. Not once, because the only thing that mattered now was that whatever—_who_ever his brother had come across in that other car had distraught him enough to make him start crying right in front of Luke._

-o0o-

"Oh crap, Nate," Lucas suddenly exclaimed as the truth finally dawned on him. "You—you saw them, right?—Oh God_, of course_ you did…"

Startled, the dark haired boy looked up and blinked, an uncomfortable lump already forming in his throat.

"You know what—I don't need to hear this—"

"Nate…"

"I just came here to make sure Dan didn't—aw, what the hell, I better get going, or else they'll make me stay in the end."

"For Christ's sake. Nathan! Talk to me, man? You can't just—"

Rather abruptly, the younger one's expression changed quite visibly from annoyance to actual anger.

"What?" he bit out in answer. "What can't I just, huh? Walk out of here? Leave, without having a little heart-to-heart with my 'oh so close' big brother first?—Reality check, Lucas: we're not like that, okay? We don't talk. So why should one stupid car crash change anything about that?"

Challengingly, Nathan glared at the older one, daring him to open his mouth, before he turned to leave once more. He needed to leave this friggin' place, right now. What had made him want to check on this jerk anyway, he wondered. Was he turning soft or something? All he knew was that he'd better get a grip, and fast. What would his friends at school think when he went all 'buddy' with his geek of a half-brother? Sure as hell Tim would—

He bit down on his lip so hard that instantly he tasted copper. He would have liked to break into a run, but he couldn't, not with Lucas's eyes boring into his back.

Strangely, Lucas noticed the sudden change in the younger one's posture, noticed him actually freeze in place for a moment. He knew that whatever he had to say, he had to say it quickly or Nathan would simply fall back into old habits, protecting himself by being the jerk he'd always been.

And so he exclaimed without further warning,

"Why it should change anything? Because that night you found your friends dead, Nathan!" The candid harshness of his words pained even him, but he had to go on,

"And I was there! I made you go and get help when you—when—"

"Don't, Luke…"

It was barely a whisper; it sounded so pained. Luke saw how hard Nathan was clenching the doorknob, saw him droop his head and let his shoulders sag. Still, Luke had to finish what he needed to say, for Nate might never listen to him again after this.

"When you shouldn't have been alone!—You saw Tim, Nathan. And Bevin, and—God, I don't even know who the other two _are_… —I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for you… I'm—I'm so sorry I sent you away… I shouldn't have, I know that now. It's inexcusable—you were _so_ upset…"

"Lucas…"

Nathan so didn't need to be reminded of that, he _so_ didn't. He didn't want to hear Lucas acknowledge that it had actually happened and that he even remembered it, but still the guy went on, ignoring his silent plea.

"But I thought you were just shocked because they were dead, because some… some _random_ people were dead! And not your friends! And what a horrible thing is that to say, anyway?—I'm… God, I know we are not exactly close—"

Lucas choked out a short humorless laugh at the thought and watched Nathan let go of the doorknob and move to finally look at him again. The younger one looked just as defeated as he himself felt.

"But shouldn't we," he continued regardlessly. "—After what happened, shouldn't we at least try and make more of an effort? Stop acting like complete idiots around each other? I'm tired of hating you, Nate. _Tired_. I wanna be able to thank you, like I just did, and _not_ worry you might only use it as another welcome reason to lash out at me. I wanna be able to—I don't know—admit that having Dan around is not as enviable as I thought it was, that he is a train wreck of a father and that I'm worried about what living with him is like for you—"

Nathan involuntarily tensed at the mention of Dan. On top of everything else that Lucas had already brought up he could definitely do without discussing that last bit with him. Scratch that; he could do without the whole darn confession-sort-of-thing the guy was spilling out at him.

"Crap, man! Can't you shut the hell up already?" he therefore finally shouted, tired of Lucas overhearing yet another silent plea to stop. "So you think you need to apologize? Fine. You just did! For whatever it's worth: alright! Apology accepted! If that's what you need to hear!"

"No, Nathan…"

Lucas sounded tired and Nathan sighed. He was reaching the end of his tether. Strangely, though, he didn't simply turn and walk away, surprising not only himself, but also his brother.

"What else would you wanna hear, then? Me telling you there's no need for an apology? Because you couldn't possibly have _known_? Because I just couldn't bring myself to say it? Because—because… I—_fuck_!"

Embarrassed, he averted his gaze when he felt angry tears well in his eyes, tears he had to fight down before he could face his damn brother once more. No way would he ever again allow Lucas to see him cry. No way…

Lucas started fidgeting in his bed, feeling uncomfortably constrained. It was not exactly helping matters that he couldn't simply get up and walk over to where the other one was standing, struggling with himself. It was odd, really, how hyper-aware he was of the added effect standing close to the person you were talking to usually had. He would have liked to walk over to Nate now, put a hand on his shoulder, some kind of gesture to emphasize his intentions, some sort of actual contact he felt was necessary.

Unfortunately, he was solely relying on his words instead.

"Nate. Hey! I'm sorry, okay?"

"Yeah, right. You just said that," Nathan muttered, grinning weakly, heading out the room now for real.

"Nate.—_Nathan_. Let's… please. It's just—"

Suddenly, Lucas couldn't stop himself any longer. Desperately throwing all his good intentions to the wind he started babbling helplessly.

"God, I just… Dan thinks I did this on purpose, that I somehow provoked the crash or something, knowing that you were in the car with me, knowing who was in the other car, but I—I swear that's not what happened okay? I swear I didn't know! I couldn't! Honestly, I was only doing Haley a favor and—and I—"

At hearing that, Nathan couldn't just walk off any longer, too well did he know how Dan always managed to get into someone's head, make them believe even the stupidest things. And he couldn't allow Lucas to blame himself. Not for anything regarding that night. Not for his friends' deaths…

He was horrified to see actual tears running down the older one's cheeks; he didn't know how to deal with people crying. He didn't know what to do… So he just went for the obvious, blaming Dan. Ignoring the tears.

Ignoring that he, too, was more than a little upset after their previous conversation.

"Aw, come on, Luke," he cajoled. "You can't be serious. Even _you_ know Dan, don't you? He's like that. He's an ass, we all know that. So ignore the crap he's talking—it's what I do all the time. You think I'd still be around if I took to heart everything he said?"

Despite himself, Lucas grinned, if a little lopsidedly. Somehow he still knew that Nathan did take most of those things to heart, even if he'd never admit it. But Luke was willing to believe his assurance for the moment.

After all, he could have said something way worse instead…

"But I—I can't shake off that feeling you might think so too—"

"I don't," Nathan was quick to answer, and he meant it.

"But you had to deal with that horrible knowledge and I didn't even ask you about what you saw in that car—_who_ you saw. I didn't _dare_, Nathan. Because I was worried I mightn't be able to persuade you to go for help afterwards. I was just being selfish, I was scared for myself, and you—"

"Dude, cut yourself some slack. It was a pretty crappy night, okay? Let's not make it worse now."

"I don't wanna make it worse, it's just…"

"Luke, you really wanna go there? I mean, _really_? Coz, if you do, I'd have to go there as well. I'd have to admit to myself that nothing of it would probably have happened—"

"Nate…"

"—if I hadn't been so wasted—if I hadn't screwed up at the friggin' game—if I hadn't persuaded Tim and the others to go to that stupid party instead of having our own over at the beach house—"

"God, Nate, stop it! Don't say that, it's—"

"See? And that's why I'm not going there. And neither should you." Nathan stared hard at Lucas, daring him to continue. He didn't know what he'd say or do if Lucas did, though.

They remained silent for a while, Lucas sitting propped up in bed, rubbing his eyes, Nathan half leaning against the wall right next to the exit, checking the hallway for movement. Finally, the younger one of them returned his attention back to the room as his older brother quietly said,

"Okay… Though, promise me you'll eventually talk to someone about all that, will you? You can't just bottle everything up inside of you, not _this_…"

Instantly defiant again, Nathan raised his head, while simultaneously crossing his arms in front of him as much as his injury allowed him to.

"Please, Nate. I mean it."

Lucas sighed, wondering why the hell he even still bothered. Didn't he know Nathan at all by now?

"The great Scott has spoken, huh? Dude, you're so overdoing it with that big brother vibe now…" said Nate quite unexpectedly then, smirking, and pushed himself off of the wall.

"Very funny!"

Nathan's grin only widened as he was finally leaving for good. He had already half shut the door, when suddenly Lucas saw him stick his head through the small opening crack once more, and frowning, Luke said,

"Weren't you trying to sneak out of the hospital tonight or something?"

"Yeah, but… Before... did you really say you were doing Haley a favor?"

And for the first time right there, Lucas actually wished he could just hug his brother…

o-o0o-o

_**End Part One**_


	11. 11

When Lucas was to take his first careful steps, the three women he cared most about in his life were all present, and honestly, he didn't quite know how he felt about that. It was not exactly like he was feeling all too confident about leaving the relative safety of the wheelchair behind to begin with—and in order to trust his weakened legs to carry him instead… Brooke's cheerleading outfit didn't help in making this any easier, either. She had even brought her pompons, which spoke of the amount of confidence she had put in this whole enterprise and in him. So he better tried to feel a little more confident himself soon if she was already making such an effort on his behalf.

At first he had hated the mere sight of the stupid wheelchair, granted. But once his mom, Brooke, and Haley had begun taking turns wheeling him around the hallways of the hospital during the past two weeks that had changed profoundly. He had liked it to finally be able to venture out of the confines of his room again after having spent nearly a month just lying there, waiting—hoping for his injured leg to get better. He had waited for the doc to tell him something to look forward to. Anything, really. Therefore it had come as a tremendous relief when the doctor announced that Luke was finally ready to start with rehab, if only slowly and by doing just a few exercises every day. Still, it had been the beginning of some sort of progress which was still continuing now.

Looking back on the day Brooke, a huge and all too eagerly hopeful smile plastered across her face, had first brought in the wheelchair, Lucas felt more than ashamed about his behavior back then, about the things he'd said. He wished he had reacted differently. He wished he had shown at least a small amount of enthusiasm—if only for her sake.

He looked over to her now, saw her smile that typical Brooke Davis smile of hers—all dimples and shining eyes—and decided that this time he would not disappoint her. Let him be afraid of the pain he was sure would shoot up his leg once he set his foot on the ground in front of him and put weight on it; let him be afraid of needing help for his first steps; let him be afraid of failing right in front of all their eyes, of not being able to take even one step. But he would not allow himself to be weak. He would go about this with confidence, he had to. He owed it to Brooke, for sticking with him through all this, through his way too many bad patches. He owed it to her, just as he owed it to his mom, and Haley, for always being there, cheering him up, distracting him if need be, all that.

But more than anything, he owed it to himself. Because he wanted this to work; he wanted to be able to walk again. If nothing else, he at least wanted to be able to walk, just as he had seen himself do in that dream he had been dreaming before Brooke had woken him up on the day she confronted him with the wheelchair, cheerfully announcing that it was...

-o0o-

… "_Time to get up, Lucas Scott!—And don't tell me you were still sleeping at this hour of the day."_

"_Brooke…," Lucas whined, rubbing his eyes before sleepily stretching his arms above him. _

"_Come on, Scott. Aren't you the one usually telling _me_ that so much can be done in the early hours of the day—including the weekends? It's nothing a Brooke Davis would ever say, but hey, you did, and so you'll have to live with the consequences now, sweetie. So get up already," Brooke said grinning and opened the door a little farther for the wheelchair she was about to wheel into Luke's room. She was more than just a little excited at the prospect of finally_ _being allowed to "kidnap" her boyfriend and get him out of his stuffy, hated hospital room for a little tour around the building. Well, maybe it wouldn't exactly be that much of a thrilling event, and also, the doctor had instructed her not to overdo it, yet, and bring him back after only a few minutes. But Brooke had no reason to complain, really, because it would at least still give Luke the opportunity to see something else for a change, something other than the four walls of this room; and if that wouldn't cheer him up, Brooke didn't know what else would._

"_Getting up loses somewhat of its meaning in my situation, though, don't you agree?" Lucas piped up again, indicating the bed in which he had been lying for what felt like more than enough days already. "That doesn't exactly make for a good motivation to start the day early."_

"_Yes, I know. But I have something for you, baby, something that'll surely cheer you up."_

_Brooke playfully pointed a finger at him, with her free hand playing with a strand of her hair in a sudden show of nervousness. "Just you wait and see, Luke, you're going to like this. I'll be right back," she then blurted out and left to go and get the wheelchair as well as the waiting nurse whose task would be to help Lucas get into it._

"_Ta-dah!" she made, presenting the gray and admittedly a little dull-looking thing with outstretched arms like it were some kind of present more deserving of a glamorous entrance than a simple wheelchair. Beaming at Lucas she waited for him to say somethin, but wasn't at all prepared for his reaction once it hit her._

"_What the hell is that doing in my room, Brooke?" he spat, anger quite suddenly coloring his face._

"_Luke—"_

"_Get it out! Get it out for fuck's sake! Are you telling me I'm not going to be able to walk again? Leave this room without the help of that… that _thing_?"_

"_Mr. Scott, maybe you should try to calm down again."_

_The nurse's words, sounding like a mere suggestion, were instantly overlapped by Brooke's own desperate outcry._

"_Lucas, please. That's absolutely not what I intended to—"_

"_You've got to be stupid to have thought I'd…I'd even _consider_ letting anyone wheel me around like a… freakin' cripple," he interrupted her rudely, not giving her a chance to defend herself, right the wrong impression he'd somehow gotten. "I'm NOT a cripple, got that? I'm not. And I don't need Brooke Davis doing her best to make me feel like one. —I tell you what," "No way I'm ever going to…to to… use that sort of thing! Never! I'll die first!"_

"_Oh God, don't you say that."_

"_Mr. Scott."_

"_If I don't walk out of here on my own two feet eventually? I will; and that's a promise."_

_She didn't know when she had started crying, but right then she felt the tears pooling on her chin, felt them drop down. She felt cold all of a sudden, a coldness that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room and everything with the scathing look on his face, the venom in his horrible words._

"_Now get it out of my sight!"_

_She bit down hard on her lip to stop her chin from trembling all too much and nodded. "Okay…," she then whispered, grabbed the wheelchairs handles and made to turn around._

"_Mr. Scott," the nurse started again, but Brooke only waved a hand at the man and with as much strength as she could muster said,_

"_No, Ray. You heard him. Thanks anyway."_

_She smiled at him sadly, traces of tears still lining her cheeks, and he nodded. Stepping toward her, he took the object of Lucas' wrath out of her hands and wheeled it out, allowing her to take a few deep breaths before leaving._

_Lucas had remained eerily silent after his last outburst, surely wallowing in his anger, and Brooke was nearly at the door before she made up her mind. She turned around again and faced him, let him see that her tears were already drying. Pointing at him, she said,_

"_And now let me tell _you_ something, Lucas. No one has the right to speak to me like you just did. No one." She paused, meeting his defiant stare. "Nevertheless, I'll try to forget the things you just said and remind myself that you're not quite yourself at the moment. You've been through a hard time these past weeks; I know that you still have a long way to go, and I'd love to be there for you throughout the whole journey, no matter the outcome. I'd still love to accompany you on that way, Lucas Scott, even after the things you just said. But if I ever hear you say any of this again, if I ever see you act like a child with a temper tantrum again when someone offers you the chance to take the next step out of this place, I'll be out of this. I'll be out of here, and out of your life. No going back.—Did you already _forget_ what happened to all the other people involved in the accident?"_

"_Brooke…" Lucas' face had suddenly taken on an ashen hue._

_Brooke didn't quite know where those words had come from, but even though they seemed to have hurt him quite severely, she didn't feel it in herself to regret a thing she had said._

"_Don't you think Tim, or Bevin would have given anything—anything—to be offered a chance like yours? Don't you think they'd rather be _here_, _now_, confronted with a wheelchair?—You don't want it? Fine,—but walking means getting out of this bed first. So use the wheelchair just for now, then. Consider this a… transitional state. Do your exercises. Fight harder. Above all, start believing in yourself, Lucas—and not only when you feel like it. You have to really believe you can do this—that you'll eventually be walking again someday. I believe in that, Lucas. I believe you'll be able to walk again sooner than anyone thinks possible. Do _you_?"_

-o0o-

Okay Scott, you can do this, Lucas told himself looking sternly across to where Brooke was performing a tamer version of her usual cheering dance. Despite his tension she still managed to bring a smile to his face, making his lips quirk up in a slightly strained grin.

"Come on, Luke. Remember yesterday: you've already done the standing up part. This is just taking it one step further—oooh did you hear that? "Taking it one step further," Brooke Davis: master of witty wordplays! You better watch out, Lucas Scott, you'll have some serious competition in the writing business later-on in life!"

"Yeah, alright," Lucas laughed, grateful she hadn't yet lost her enthusiasm in the face of his seeming slowness at solving the task of "put both feet in front of you, brace yourself, rise into a standing position, slowly shift your weight from one leg to both."

Lucas gazed over to where Brooke, Haley, and his mom were waiting. They looked so hopeful, happy even that he had come this far in so short a time. He couldn't disappoint them now, could he? He had promised Brooke he would fight and he had. So much so that even she had told him once to take it a little more easily again, just a little… Now was the time to prove to her, to all of them, and to him, that there really was a way out of the wheelchair. Besides, it wasn't like he was supposed to walk without crutches, anyway…

"You can do this, Lucas!" Haley cajoled, and 'You can do this' were the words he chose as his mantra to guide him through this, hopefully unscathed…

With that thought he finally, slowly and very gradually, raised himself to his feet and for the first time tried to balance his whole weight on both legs. He had to close his eyes throughout the process, thus trying to ward off the searing pain, or seeing as that didn't work: trying to concentrate on not giving in to it already.

"Yes! You're doing great, baby!"

"Yes, Lucas!"

They weren't that far away, he needed to remind himself, and the doctor as well as a nurse were standing somewhere close behind him too, right? Nothing could go wrong, really. "All's well that ends well," came the Shakespeare quote to his mind unbidden. So why then could he feel beads of sweat erupting on his forehead? And just why hadn't the pain begun to subside at least a little bit by now? Was he really supposed to simply "walk through the pain" as the doctor had instructed him earlier? Somehow he couldn't help doubting he'd actually gotten that right. But no matter, he had set himself a task and he would complete it. Today would be the day he took his first real steps after the accident.

Adjusting the crutches, he made to place the foot of his injured leg in front of him. He looked up to where the girls were standing. He even managed a smile in their direction, or something that felt like a believable version of an actual smile, anyway.

And then he eventually made the long anticipated move, and the next thing he heard was the odd sound of Haley and his mom screaming, and Brooke yelling his name in a vaguely panicked sounding tone of voice…

-o0o-

Dan finally signed the last of the papers he had been given and waited for the young officer to hand over his personal belongings. Drumming his fingers on the desk in a show of impatience, he couldn't help a comment escaping his mouth.

"Lady, people like you with no life outside of work may have all the time in the world, but a Dan Scott actually has places to be—and I already lost a month of precious time by spending it here. I'm not intending to postpone my departure any farther into the future because of your working speed, okay?"

"Mr. Scott," his lawyer muttered warningly and placed a hand on his forearm.

Annoyed, Dan turned toward the man, removed his hand and said, "And you Mr. Granger, may very well leave now. Your job is done here—and may I remind you, you didn't exactly excel in it, seeing as I'm only now getting out of here again. Don't you agree?"

He didn't wait for the idiot to make any sort of retort for just then the officer—who, sadly, was nowhere near being a stunner, either—handed him a brown envelope holding the few belongings he'd had on him the day they had arrested him. He grinned angrily at the memory, and once again cursed his brother and Karen for actually having reported him to the police after the little incident over at the hospital a couple of weeks ago.

At least Granger had somehow managed to settle that matter, Dan had to give him that. Although it had meant pleading guilty in the first place, putting all hopes on the jury accepting Granger's proffered explanation of Dan only having done what he had done because the accident had terribly unsettled him. To back that somewhat daring theory up a little more, the man had even come up with a psychiatrist willing to write a report on Dan's mental state at the time of the incident. Dan still had to read that one, he was more than a little curious to learn what exactly that shrink had "diagnosed" that might not have come up in court. As convincing as the thing might have been, though, it hadn't saved him from spending a month in this godforsaken place, just as it wouldn't save him from having to do 300 hours of community service over at the local animal shelter, starting the next day. But he could live with that, especially considering the alternative (the one Keith and that bitch Karen had favored): serving an actual sentence, spending more than just four weeks in jail.

He'd never forget how Karen's face had fallen that day in court, or the ridiculous melodramatic rendition of a mother who had been wronged that she had given… What had she thought would happen? That any judge would seriously convict Dan Scott of a crime such as child abuse?

Child abuse? He'd show her what abuse meant if she wanted it… Shaking his head, he swaggered out of the building, checking his newly reclaimed watch for the time, before scanning the parking lot for the car he expected to pick him up. And there it was: Deb's car, neatly parked not more than a few feet away. Without further ado he jumped into it, actually bothered with giving her a short peck on the cheek, and grumbled,

"Let's get the hell out of here, Deb. Go."

"Listen, Dan, I'm only doing this to make sure I know where you're going—Don't get any ideas, and don't look at me like that. That stuff in the back? It's yours. The rest is in the trunk. No way I'm allowing you anywhere near my son after what you did."

"_De-eb_…,"

"Don't '_De-eb'_ me, Dan. It's over. You're not returning home with us. I booked you into a motel. Consider it a last act of generosity on my behalf if you will. Don't even think of ever calling me again after that. And I swear to God, if you don't stay away from Nathan…"

"Oh come on, Deb, this is really getting ridiculous now," Dan said, sounding truly affronted. "Do you think I'd ever hurt our son?"

"Ridiculous is not a word I'd choose, Dan. I, contrary to you as it seems, have not forgotten what happened with Lucas at the hospital. Lucas, who is your son just as well as Nathan is… So don't you dare come anywhere near my house, or my son. Oh, and I want a divorce," Deb added, the last bit sounding like some sort of afterthought that had only just occurred to her.

Dan merely stared at her, for a moment unable to say anything at all.

-o0o-

Lucas felt Brooke's lips on his when next he dared open his eyes.

"Hey baby," she mouthed, voiceless nearly, only lifting her head an inch or so to be able to look him in the eyes.

Frowning, he tried to remember what had happened after he had started proceeding with his attempt at walking. Weirdly, though, he couldn't seem to come up with a scenario that could sufficiently explain why he was apparently back lying in his bed, with Brooke hovering somewhere over him, her dark curls hanging down either side of her pretty face.

"Brooke?" he whispered uncertainly, marveling at the beauty of her dimpled smile. Oh, how he loved those dimples…

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, L. Scott," she pouted, despite her words gently caressing his face and placing another kiss on his lips, making him lean into her more, craving more…

"Nuh-uh, Luke. Naughty boy. First you just pass out like that after you finally walked a first real step and now you're already up and ready for some action in bed? You Scott boys! Insatiable, the whole lot of you."

"What do you mean, the whole lot…," Lucas demanded to know, not quite sure whether she was only teasing him or not. Surely she and Dan had never… But had she and Nathan… Wait, did she just say he passed out? Lucas couldn't remember passing out, it couldn't be true, it—but he remembered the pain… Suddenly, he felt quite sobered up again. Imploring Brooke with his eyes, he waited for her to tell him what exactly happened. "Brooke, I—passed out?"

"Aw, poor baby. You don't even remember that, huh? Well, you better rest now, pretty boy. Tomorrow we'll talk, okay? And then you can try it again, if you feel completely up to it. This time, though, do use those crutches, you hear? I'm not playing nurse for you forever, you know?" Brooke was still grinning brightly, and yet she couldn't quite mask her worry. Too scared had she been when all of a sudden Lucas had broken down right in front of them all only minutes before. Apparently, the strain to his leg had proved to be a little too much still. Somehow she couldn't help feeling responsible for the way he was pushing himself. He really needed to take better care of himself, to take it a little easier. It didn't help anyone if he was ruining his leg by overdoing it with the getting back to walking business.

For a moment she considered telling him what the doctor had said about rushing things: that he might do more damage to his leg that way than the accident had already done… Looking into his eyes, so trusting and warm, she didn't have the heart to do it, though. Not now…

So instead, she simply kissed him again, allowing his tongue to enter her mouth and forage into the realm of his with her own...


	12. 12

His first day back in school; Nathan sighed heavily at the thought. Deb had just dropped him off in front of Tree Hill High, and he had had to assure her over and over again that yes, he really was okay with going back to classes today. If only he could make himself believe it, too…

Staring at the tall building in front of him, he took a last deep breath and eventually started walking. He tried to ignore the fact that people kept staring at him like he were some freak. Everyone had known him before, he had been the basketball team's star player after all, but now the looks they shot in his direction were heavy with that other knowledge about him, knowledge that sure as hell had been the source of a lot of gossip during the last couple of weeks. The accident, the deaths of his friends, the thing about his father and Lucas…

No Tim to welcome him back this time… Just the memory of him with his head so horribly—

Nathan closed his eyes for a second and forced himself to stop thinking about those things. This was only school. He was Nathan Scott. He didn't care what people thought or said about him. He did not care!

"Nate! Hey, you're back!" someone suddenly called out behind him. It was Jake, who had run to catch up with him and was now putting his hand on his shoulder in silent acknowledgment of what Nathan had been through.

"Yeah," he said. He had tried to sound at least a little more enthusiastic about it than he felt, but it had been a too halfhearted attempt.

"Don't worry, Dude. You didn't miss much," Jake said dismissively and began accompanying his teammate into the hall. On their way he filled Nate in on the few things he actually did think were worth knowing, and Nathan made a show of trying to look and behave like he actually cared.

It was then that they came across Haley, who was heading straight for her locker, and he couldn't help but smile. They didn't have their last few encounters under the most ideal circumstances, and yet she had always tried to make it seem like there was no reason for him to be embarrassed about anything. Yeah, right. Like freaking out in front of her was no reason for embarrassment…

Once she noticed the guys, her gaze instantly settled on the taller of the two and surprise and a sudden, relieved joy at seeing him culminated in a shy smile.

"Nathan! So you're back to school finally!" she blurted out, biting the insides of her cheeks in sudden horror at having addressed him this loudly.

"Haley.—Yeah, looks like it, huh?" he drawled out, still smiling. He was acting all confident and yet he didn't feel confident at all. What was this girl—this tutor girl—doing to him?

"Good for you!" Haley said and wanted the ground to open beneath her, swallow her. Good for you? That's all she had to say to him? Seriously? Oh, Haley James, you idiot, she berated herself, feeling red heat creep into her cheeks.

"Um, yeah… well… See you later, Hales, okay?" He looked at her again, and for one short moment their gazes locked, before he and Jake moved on, down the hallway to their classroom.

He had called her "Hales" again…

Somewhat belatedly, Haley finally got out a "Yes, sure," in response, but by that time the two guys had already vanished somewhere in the crowd. Haley rolled her eyes at herself. She had behaved like a stupid 12-year-old with a crush. And she absolutely did not have a crush on Nathan Scott!

At least she had not asked when exactly they should continue with the tutoring, she thought and finally turned to her locker and made to open it. After a while, though, she swore angrily. Try as she might, the door to her locker simply wouldn't open, but how was she to help that new guy with catching up in math when she didn't have access to her books? And besides, how was she to explain it to Mrs. Rosenheim if she showed up to her class without her English homework?

But before she could start actually attacking the metal with her fists in her desperation, she suddenly heard someone laugh lightly behind her and whirled around to see Peyton standing a little to the side, watching. Haley glowered at her, then returned her attention to the stupid locker.

"Not funny," she bit out. "This. Stupid. Locker. Will. Not.—_Gosh_!"

"Hey hey hey," Peyton laughed. She took her friend by the shoulders and gently guided her out of the way. "Let me see, okay? Move over, tutor girl." With a light shake of her head she forced her blond locks out of her face and took a peek at the object in question. "Um, Haley?"

"What?" came the annoyed reply.

"It's just… could it be that you haven't unlocked it, yet, sweetie?"

"What; do you think I'm that stupid?" Haley huffed indignantly and shoved Peyton out of the way. Giving her a look that basically said _You-have-absolutely-no-idea_, she grumbled, "Ach, eventually I'll get this thing to open, just you wait and see. And if the damn door has to come lose for that to happen, then so be—oh no!" she suddenly blurted out disbelievingly and stared at her friend. "This… oh my God, you were _right_, I didn't—I did _not_ unlock my stupid locker first! Oh my God." Throwing her hands up in a gesture of defeat, she muttered meekly, "So now it's official, go ahead and tell everyone that Haley James is a complete human failure. First I start babbling nonsense to Nathan, and now I'm even forgetting a simple thing such as unlocking my locker before opening it?" She sighed and let her head droop.

"Nathan's back?" Peyton picked up the new info and gently forced Haley's face up by lifting her chin with one extended hand. She smiled knowingly, which only made the other scowl at her.

"Does someone have a crush on our returned star player?" the blonde asked and couldn't help from laughing when she saw the hopeless expression on her friend's face.

"Did I hear the word 'crush?'" Brooke's voice could suddenly be heard and a moment later she was throwing her arms around both girls' shoulders. "Ooooh, I love gossip!"

No. Haley James did _not_ have a crush. On anyone!

-o0o-

Had the hallway in front of his room always been this long, Lucas wondered as he was practicing his walking skills, crutches held securely in his fists. Ray was always close to his side, wheelchair at the ready.

"Dude," Luke muttered eventually and looked up at the nurse, "time for a little break, okay?"

"_That_, coming from _you_?" Ray wondered, but nodded and helped his patient sit down again. Usually he was having a hard time keeping the Scott kid from continuing on, long after his strength had been exhausted. But it seemed Lucas had finally begun to understand the importance of not rushing things.

It had only taken that unfortunate episode a few days ago for him to realize that maybe walking beyond one's limits didn't exactly help quicken the progress of returning to the walking world.

Lucas had been overly eager to prove to both Brooke and his mom that he was perfectly capable of walking the short distance from the entrance to his room to the reception area a little further off. He had ignored all their assurances that it was okay to stop once they had noticed him starting to sweat quite profusely and biting his lip, his expression determined, yet pain-filled.

But he had wanted to show them he could do it. It was not a long walk after all. Yet, it had turned out to be too long for him in the end. He had ended up clinging to Brooke for support when his legs had suddenly given way. He had had to endure the two women's worried looks, their scolding him for being stupid to risk his health by overdoing it. They had told him he didn't have to prove anything to them. Even now, though, he still felt like he did.

But after his leg had hurt so badly the day following his disastrous first try at walking a longer distance, so badly in fact that he had to sit out two whole days of practice before actually being able to give it a try again, he had decided it would be best to actually heed the others' words for once and take it a little more easily.

Maybe it had helped a little that the doc had given him some new prospects to look forward to when saying that he was free to go home today. He would even be allowed to go to school again—if he proved he could master what Ray liked to call a "solitary bathroom situation" beforehand.

And he had done it, complete with taking a shower! The basic stuff?—child's play! Though he'd never ever stop being grateful for being able to say that again…

School, he couldn't believe he'd finally be going back there again. He couldn't yet picture it, not really. Also, he wasn't all too happy about the fact that he'd be going back there still relying on the damn wheelchair. Already he could see the stares people would send his way, anticipated their sympathetic comments on what had happened to him—unless they went for some form of the "ignore-the-poor-cripple" tactics…

But it was _school_. It meant no longer having to stare at blank walls, feeding his brain solely on the homework Haley brought him every day and the odd crossword. Better food, and when _he_ wanted it, not when they dictated it. It meant being around people—outside of visiting hours! And being with Brooke. Who cared about the rest then?

Right?

And still, Lucas couldn't help but feel an odd sort of apprehension whenever thinking about the near future.

"Come on, Lucas, hop into bed," Ray finally said when they were back in Luke's room and waited to see how his patient was accomplishing that task unaided.

Oh yes, there was definitely progress here, the kid would do alright at home. If only he wouldn't find any reason to fall back into old habits again…

-o0o-

Nate hadn't particularly liked his first day back; how the teachers had been so understanding all of a sudden, practically giving him a wildcard for most classes—"you don't have to write next week's test, Nathan, if you don't feel like it…" Yeah, right; just you go and treat me like a friggin' imbecile now, he had thought and given the respective teacher a scathing stare.

At least it was over for the day, and finally. Of course there was practice now, but Nathan didn't feel inclined to watch his teammates run suicides and practice new moves as long as his arm was still hurting so much occasionally and he would be reduced to merely sit at the sidelines and have Whitey tell him how sorely he was missed in the games. No, thank you very much.

So instead, he was waiting for his mom to arrive and pick him up. A look at his watch told him that she was running late. With a sigh he let himself drop to the curb.

"Nathan? Hi," someone said behind him and an instant later he saw Haley lowering herself into a sitting position beside him.

"Hey."

"Aren't you supposed to be in the gym for practice?" she queried, self-consciously sweeping a strand of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear.

"Um, not yet. No," he replied, raising his arm slightly in explanation.

"Oh, of course." Haley felt like a complete idiot. Of course Nathan wasn't yet ready for returning to active practice when his arm was still not okay again. Lucas was far from being entirely healed, either, so what had she been thinking? Nothing, apparently. Her smile wavered slightly, but she managed not to let it show too obviously that she was angry at herself.

"Um…," she made, trying to bridge the awkwardness which had ensued after her slip-up, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She shouldn't have sat down next to him like that to begin with. Already she was trying to come up with a smooth way of how to extract herself from this situation she had landed herself in, when Nathan said,

"How's Luke doing?"

"Oh, um, better. He'll actually be coming back to school soon, too, can you believe it?" (Of course he can, Haley, duh.)

"That's great… You know, I probably should have—I don't know—visited him or something, it's just…," he faltered, not sure why he was even confiding in her. But there was something about this girl that just made him want to be a better person, someone who actually did visit his brother—even if only his half-brother—in the hospital. He just felt that odd urge to explain his behavior to her; wanted her to see someone else than a careless jerk in him… Darn that girl, she made him feel self-conscious without apparent reason.

"I know," Haley suddenly whispered, her voice gentle, just like the hand she put on his good arm then, and he smiled at her. God, he wanted to kiss her, he really did. But just when he took her face in his hand and started slowly bending forward, both teenagers heard a car stop in front of them and startled, moved apart again.

Haley was on her feet faster than he, and shouldering her bag she said, "Yes, well. I guess that's your ride; because unless my mom robbed a bank or something she wouldn't pick me up driving a brand new sports car."

When Nate's gaze fell on the car, she was scrutinizing it herself so she missed how his expression changed rather quickly into a deep frown. This was not Deb's car.

Following a sudden sense of foreboding he slightly tilted his head to check on the driver and his heart sank. Dan. What was he doing here? And where the hell was Deb?

Finally sensing Nathan's hesitation, Haley turned to face him. Worried, she saw that he didn't look too pleased at seeing that particular car parked in front of them. Once she looked at it again, she quickly learned why he still stood there, waiting, instead of walking toward it, because right then his father, Dan Scott, exited the car, sunglasses in place, and flashed a bright smile their way.

"Nathan. Son. Come on, let's go. We need to get you back in shape. No more flunking practice starting tomorrow, alright? And now get moving, we don't have all the time in the world."

Nathan stood frozen, Haley's hand slightly touching his. It was weird, how she was so aware of that light contact when he seemed to be so oblivious of it.

"Nathan?" she said in a small voice, fighting the urge to grab him and forcefully lead him away from Dan's grasp.

"Where's mom?"

"Oh, you know, those pills…," Dan shook his head in theatrical regret, then continued, "She should have known not to mix them with Vodka. She's out on the couch still, so I guess that left me to come and pick you up. Or would you rather want to take the bus.

"Yeah. Actually." Nathan stared at his father defiantly, not moving an inch.

It took Dan to walk over to where they were standing and grab his son's arm in a seemingly fatherly grip to make him even take one step. Flinching, Nate tried to loosen his dad's fingers from his arm, tried to fight him off, but to no avail.

"Don't be ridiculous, son. You're in no shape to win any fight against _me_.—Ms. James, if I were you I'd walk a little to the side. All too often people get hurt in parking areas because the drivers miscalculated how close they stood," he sneered, grinning at her condescendingly.

Her breath caught at hearing that obvious threat directed at her and her shocked gaze found Nathan's. She wanted to say something, _something_. But the threat had been enough to make Nate lower his head and follow his father to the car, looking defeated.

"See you tomorrow, Hales," he said hoarsely and got into the car smiling at her lopsidedly.

"Ms. James." Dan nodded his pretend-polite goodbye and vanished out of her sight, just like his car did, mere seconds later.

Tomorrow…


	13. 13

"_See you tomorrow, Hales," Nathan said hoarsely and got into Dan's car smiling at her lopsidedly._

"_Ms. James." Dan nodded his pretend-polite goodbye and vanished out of her sight, just like his car did, mere seconds later._

_Tomorrow…_

-o0o-

"Brooke! Hey, Brooke!"

Brooke was walking down the school hallways, accompanying her BFF to the cafeteria, when she heard her name being called so loudly. She threw Peyton an annoyed glance, expecting the caller to be Greg, who had started to get on her nerves pretty quickly once he had started attending Tree Hill High with them. Granted, he had been great the night the accident had happened, and in a way he still _was_ that nice, caring guy.

It was just… Brooke didn't like it how he seemed to cling to her. She didn't like clingy guys in general. Male attention? Yes, always! Not like that, though, and not his; not Greg's; not when he still seemed to think she might cave one day and go out with him. It didn't exactly help that he was never around to see how she showed Lucas her undivided affection. Brooke sort of thought that this way he was kind of forced to believe he could continue following her around like a stupid puppy dog.

Sighing, she turned around, walking backwards as she addressed her unwanted follower.

"Listen, Greg, me and you—not gonna happen, okay? I told you I'm with Lucas and although he may not be around—and contrary to whichever rumors about me you may have picked up in the guys' locker or wherever—I'm not easy to be had. Okay?" Looking over to the side, where Peyton was eyeing her somewhat critically, she added, addressing her friend this time, "Oh come on, P! So maybe I changed? Besides, just because the guys can never seem to turn down an offer doesn't mean that Brooke Davis is a slut."

Brooke was so preoccupied with explaining her bit of logic to the laughing blonde beside her that at first she didn't hear Greg speaking up again. In fact, he had to repeat her name a third time before she would return her focus to him. By that time he had finally caught up with the two girls and was now directly facing the brunette, who had finally stopped in her tracks.

Arms held up in a gesture intended to show her he meant no harm he said, "Hey, I'm sorry okay? It's just that Mr. Ashford asked me to help you a little with calculus." Ignoring how Brooke's mouth took on an O-shaped form just as her eyebrows shot up while her eyes widened in obvious disbelief he went on, "Seeing as you seem to have difficulties catching up with the new stuff, he assigned you a tutor. Don't look at me like that, it was not my idea, alright? I'm just following orders, so to speak."

"Following orders, are you?—Seriously, P," she quickly turned to Peyton, "Can you believe it? That stupid Mr. Ashford!—Well, Greggo, I already got a tutor, okay? Haley? Haley James; you know her, right? So, thanks anyway, but you can go and tell Mr. Ass-ford—"

"Brooke!" Peyton blurted a little shocked.

"—to mind his own business; and if he has to officially assign me a tutor he better make it Haley next time." With that said, she eventually turned her back to a somewhat stunned looking Greg, and seeing Peyton stare at her she shrugged before resuming her walk.

"What the hell was that all about?" Peyton asked, looking slightly baffled.

Brooke was spared to come up with an actual answer, though, when she heard her name being called. Again. Now this is getting extremely annoying, she thought. For a second there she considered ignoring this renewed call. Making up her mind, though, she suddenly whirled around and—surprising even herself—blurted out,

"Listen, Greg: I. Am. With. Lucas.—_I love him_, alright? Get that into your head and leave me the hell alone. And, stop using teachers as sorry excuses for your sad attempts at hitting on me! Honestly. Be. A. Man!"

Only once she had finished her outburst, did she realize that it had not been Greg, after all, calling her name. It had been…

… Lucas. Now, could it be? Could it really be that he was finally back?

Yes, there he was. Apparently he had used the other entrance, seeing as he couldn't yet master the stairs what with him still relying on the wheelchair. But here he was, back at school. Finally. No more long, boring Lucas-less days spent at school, waiting for the end of classes when she was free to go and visit him.

Was that really how she had spent the last weeks? Had she, Brooke Penelope Davis, seriously turned into that pathetic a person?—Also, did she actually just blurt out a love confession to Lucas' face?

So much for the being pathetic…

She didn't care, though. Blame it on Luke's good influence or whatever, but Brooke didn't care if anyone thought her hopeless; and with that thought she left Peyton standing there to walk up to her boyfriend. Following some stupid impulse, she went to sit down in his lap—mindful of his injury—cupped his face and, startling him with her intensity, kissed him passionately.

"I missed you, Lucas Scott," she eventually whispered.

Luke chuckled lightly. "But you just visited me yesterday…"

"Yeah. You could have told me then that you'd be coming back to school today, Scott," she scolded him, earning a mischievous grin.

"Aw, but I wouldn't have wanted to miss your welcoming me back like you just did. Not for the world." And smiling, he quietly added, "Missed you, too, Brooke Davis." With that said, he kissed her again, until a very familiar voice chimed,

"I'm glad you're back, Mr. Scott. But should it have slipped your mind: this is still a school and my team are not to… display their affection for their girls too openly in front of… um… the general public."

"Whitey…," Lucas said fondly, just as Brooke made to untangle her arms from his neck. But the old man just went on, "And don't think you don't have to answer to me anymore, Scott, just because you may not yet be up to par again. You're still a member of the team and as such I expect you to act as a role model for the younger ones around here."

"Understood, Sir," Lucas assured him, looking up to the Coach, smirking, until the man's features softened and he grumbled out a barely audible, "Good to see you back, Lucas. Good to see you back…" Then Whitey left the teenagers to themselves again, and watched as more and more friends came up to welcome the blonde Scott back, one dark-haired boy prominently absent among them…

-o0o-

Haley was still smiling when she left the circle of friends early to go and find the curiously absent Nathan for their regular tutoring session after lunch. She couldn't help but worry about him ever since she had seen his father pick him up after school the day before. Now that he hadn't even been around to welcome his brother back—or at least acknowledge his return, that uneasy feeling in her stomach manifested itself even farther. If she thought about it, she hadn't seen the younger Scott all day long and started wondering whether he'd actually show up for tutoring.

Once she entered the room in which other kids were already beginning their tutoring sessions, she was surprised to spot Nathan already sitting in a chair at the back of the room, brooding over an open book. Hurrying, she walked over to him and fell into the chair opposite him, breathing out an apology.

"Gosh, I'm sorry I'm late. But—did you know that Lucas is back at school? I didn't see you at lunch…"

Nate barely lifted his head to look her in the eyes. He let it droop again almost instantly, and muttered, "I wasn't there." He said it just like that, a statement and no explanation whatsoever. Great, Haley thought, now he was all back to being the jerk he used to be before the whole drama with the accident. Already she was sure Dan was to blame for the boy's sudden fall back into old habits, but she decided to let the matter drop for now. Maybe, if she gave him a few minutes, he would pull himself together again and act a little less uptight.

Maybe he would stop acting like that moment between them—that moment yesterday when… —maybe he would stop acting like it never happened, would stop ignoring her, like he pretty much did just now.

"Um, okay," she eventually forced out. "So… seeing as Ms. Langlois told us she's going to have us write a test soon we'd better start with English today, don't you think?"

Nathan just shrugged, making his tutor sigh. This was going to be one tough lesson if he chose to remain this unresponsive.

"Alright. Let's start with the basics. Do you remember how a good essay is supposed to be structured?—Nathan?"

"Huh?" He looked up again, blinking. Only now did she notice the dark shadows underneath his eyes. He looked as if he hadn't slept all night. Actually, he looked nearly as bad again as he did when he was still in the hospital which, she needed to remind herself, had only been a couple of days ago.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked, daring to place a gentle hand on his arm. Still, her touch made him flinch and she couldn't help feeling hurt when he pulled away.

"I'm…," he stuttered out, "yeah. Can we just—can we just get this over with?"

"Sure…" Quietly, Haley took out her things and made him write an essay choosing one of the topics on offer on the list in their book, deciding it would be best to simply correct his writing once he was finished. She wouldn't be able to make him recite to her the basics of how best to outline an essay, anyway, so why bother.

Yet she did; bother. Watching him as he silently scribbled down words on a piece of paper, she asked herself for the umpteenth time how he could be her best friend's brother. Those two were so unlike each other. With Lucas, she was accustomed to him brooding over anything and everything. She knew how to take his silences. She knew when best to accept them as his usual behavior and when to question their reason and make Lucas talk about what bothered him.

With his sibling, though, things were different. He was not exactly the brooding type of guy, and neither was he the haunted, quiet one. Or was he? No; for all Haley knew, Nathan Scott had always been your average b-ball high school star player, self-confident and laid-back jock, complete with an outgoing personality and charming—(or you could call it annoying, like she had mostly done)—attitude.

Then again… What with the accident, she could no longer be sure of anything, not even of what was and what wasn't typical behavior for one Nathan Scott. It was not like she actually knew him all that much right? One nearly-happened kiss between them didn't exactly change that, now did it? No, she reasoned, it did not.

She was still preoccupied with her own thoughts when suddenly Nathan shoved his paper over to her wordlessly, staring at her, eyebrows raised.

Startled, she looked from him to the paper, then to her watch. "Oh," she exclaimed. Time was halfway up. If she was to give him some feedback on how to improve his essay writing technique she had better hurry.

-o0o-

Nathan eyed the James girl as she was reading through the crap he'd written down. Deep down he felt sorry for his behavior toward her, but with Dan basically having threatened her like that the other day he didn't feel much like letting her in on anything anymore and by doing so possibly endangering her freakin' safety. Besides, he absolutely didn't need someone else to worry about now that his oh-so-sympathetic father was breathing down his neck about practice, this year's basketball season, and Nate's chances of making it to college if he didn't return to the game ASAP (or rather, the lack thereof, as Dan had been pleased to rub in every other minute. _"Without basketball, son, you're nothing. And you will remain nothing if you don't get your ass up now and start behaving like a Scott again!")_

Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes, just as Haley's head shot up for a second and she shot an odd look at him which made him feel all creepy inside.

"Nathan," she finally said, the sound of her voice making him feel apprehensive of whatever she was going to say next. He flinched visibly as the next thing she did was cite a passage out of his essay.

"'Children don't always know what's best for them. Occasionally, they need someone else to remind them what's best for them. If they still don't want to face the truth it might be necessary to use other means than words to make them…'" Haley looked up again, not finishing reading out his horrible sentence. "—Do… do you honestly think that's true?" she asked warily. Weirdly, Nathan could only detect traces of worry on her pretty face, no accusation, no disdain.

"Aw, come on now, Hales," he blurted out somewhat flustered, "It's just a goddamn essay. I just… At least I wrote 'occasionally,' didn't I?—Which, by the way, is a word I wouldn't have used before you started tutoring me… Okay, so maybe I need to reword a few things here and there. Now that you're reading it out it does sound a little… uh, it…," he closed his eyes, touching one palm to his forehead, admitting defeat. Crap, he thought, unable to face her when he heard her speak up again.

Very quietly, she said, "Nathan, have you been… has Dan ever—"

"It's not like that, Haley! Crap! This is just a freakin' essay, for God's sake, don't make it any bigger by saying—by… Just don't talk about things you know nothing about!" he yelled, startling not only the girl in front of him, but the other students present, as well. Getting up with such force that his chair fell to the ground with a loud thud, he stared at the others challengingly "Stop looking at me like you feel sorry for me!" he hissed, no longer addressing Haley. He was not mad at her after all. No, not at her, never at Haley James… "There's no friggin' need for that, so STOP IT! Go feel sorry for yourselves, coz that's what you should rather be doing. Screw you! All of you!"

With that said, he exited the room, not sparing Haley another glance. He couldn't look her in the eyes. Not now. Not ever again.

Heading straight to the boys' locker to get ready for today's practice, he tried his hardest to forget that last look on her face, but there was no way he'd ever be able to forget it.

Sorrow, and pain on her beautiful face… What had he done?

-o0o-

As Brooke Davis was wheeling her boyfriend into the gym, laughing all the while, her wavy dark hair flying this way and that, Greg watched her intently. She was such a pretty girl. A shame, really, how she clung to that poor crippled boy in the wheelchair. She was too full of energy to spend her days cheering him up. Oh, of course Greg didn't begrudge the Lucas kid his luck, not at all. The guy deserved some happiness in his life after all he had been through following that horrible car crash.

And yet. In a way Greg did begrudge him something, or better: some_one_; and that was Brooke Davis. The girl he would already have called his girlfriend, he was sure, if it hadn't been for the accident; that stupid accident, which seemed to haunt every goddamn minute of his life since first he had encountered the scene of the crash that night after the party.

He saw Brooke bend down to kiss the blond Scott and couldn't help feeling an uncomfortable sting of jealousy at witnessing their apparent happiness.

He still remembered how soft her lips felt. She had kissed him that night after all. Sure, she had been slightly drunk, and curiously angry at her boyfriend, who turned out to be Lucas Scott, as it had transpired later. She had been so angry at him then, and willing to risk everything for a night with Greg and his friend. It had only taken one severe accident to make her forget her initial anger, and understandingly so.

But what if Greg somehow managed to unearth the reason for that anger again, what if he succeeded in making Brooke remember what had made her so mad at Lucas in the first place? Yeah, why didn't he just try to find that out…

* * *

_Thanks for reading everyone!_


	14. 14

-o0o-

Lucas was watching his fellow team members getting ready for yet another training session. It felt wrong, though; having to watch from the sidelines. Sitting in his stupid wheelchair beside Whitey Lucas felt more constricted by his present condition than he had felt during the last couple of days. Actually, practicing walking with Nurse Ray had made him feel so much better that he had started thinking it would only be a short way from there back onto the basketball court. But right now that possibility felt so far away again… He saw Skillz dunk a ball playfully, saw him hanging in the air for a short while, before he let himself fall back on his feet. Involuntarily Lucas winced, earning a worried sideways glance from the Coach.

"Now, Lucas," the older man spoke up and crossed his arms in front of him. "I take it that you _know_ nobody expects miracles from you so soon." It was no question. Lucas nodded lamely, his nonverbal response obviously not satisfying Whitey. The man turned to face Luke and looked at him with an inscrutable expression. "You'll get back there eventually, son. No need to rush matters." He paused. "It's not like we don't need you back, though. Haven't won any darn game since you and that brother of yours and even—" He stopped midsentence. Lucas knew why, of course. He could see Whitey's jaw muscles twitch as the man was apparently debating with himself if it would be wise to continue. But whether he was thinking of his student's mental well-being or his own, that, Lucas did not know. "That Smith boy," Whitey finally mumbled, continuing louder, "Haven't won in too long, son, I can tell you. So get back on track, alright?—Just don't push it… Aw, like that other stupid Scott on my team!" Whitey suddenly shouted and headed straight onto the field, startling Luke for only a second. Then he saw what—or rather who—the Coach had spotted. There was Nate, entering the gym, taking long confident strides until he reached his fellow team mates.

"Nathan Scott!" the Coach yelled, just as Lucas's gaze strayed to where Brooke and her squad of cheerleaders had begun rehearsing what looked like some pretty complicated moves. She sent a smile his way, blew him a kiss, and waved briefly. But after that she focused her attention back on her fellow cheerleaders.

Lucas knew it to be a stupid thought, yet he couldn't help feeling terribly left out. Frowning, and angry at himself, he forced himself to remain in the gym nevertheless, if only to observe the team's progress, and take a peek at his beautiful girlfriend every once in a while. If it wasn't for Brooke's presence in his bleak life…

"Hey," someone beside him suddenly said and he turned halfway in his wheelchair to look at a tall brown-haired boy of about his age who stood looming over him. "Lucas, right?"

"Uh huh."

The guy sat down. "Guess you don't remember me. I'm Greg. I was there the night you guys… you know…," he explained, stopping once he saw the blond kid nod not so much in recognition as because he knew what Greg had been aiming to say. "So, how's things?" he asked, oblivious to the fact that his attempt at small talk seemed somewhat odd to his conversational partner.

"Uh, good, thanks.—You?"

"Oh. Same here. Well, you know, this might sound a bit weird, but my teacher kinda forced me to take on a project concerning memory—so as to catch up and stuff. 'Cause back at my old school we weren't exactly as far into the subject as you guys here, so…"

Impatiently as well as slightly annoyed by the new guy, Lucas interrupted him, "Just spit it out, dude, okay? Does this have anything to do with me?"

Greg looked down sheepishly, hoping Lucas wouldn't see through his admittedly lame attempt at getting a few more insights into his whole relationship with Brooke. "Well, okay, here goes: I was just wondering if you'd be willing to, um, tell me if you remember anything from that night at the beach, or what you do remember; 'cause, you know, I'm sorta examining the influence of, um—traumatic experiences on the mind…"

Lucas felt a sudden anger flare up in him, though he told himself he should be a little more grateful and forthcoming, since the guy had helped them that night after all. Still, he couldn't quite pinpoint it, but he had gotten the impression that Greg was only trying to get inside his head instead of working on an actual project. If there even was a project to begin with, which Lucas doubted. That, though, had him wondering what the newbie might be up to in truth. Luckily, he was spared to answer Greg for right then he heard his brother yell out somewhere farther off,

"I can play, Coach! I'm fine! You gotta let me play, for fuck's sake!"

"Nathan Scott! I won't have any of that language on my court!" Whitey seethed, though a part of him felt for the boy. He was simply angry, angry at himself, at Whitey, at the world. But once Whitey had seen how the kid still favored his one arm, he had already made a decision. Having seen Nathan practically gasp when Skillz had accidentally tackled him a little harsher than intended had only farther manifested the Coach's belief. It would be a mistake to let the kid play in the coming game.

"You are out, Nathan!"

"Coach!" The kid whined. It visibly pained Whitey to be so adamant about sending him off of the field, yet he knew it was the only right thing to do. The boy was destroying his health here, and he couldn't have that. Not for the sake of finally having a small chance of winning a game again after what felt like forever.

"You heard me, Nathan. No discussions about it," he therefore stated. "You are _not_ playing in this Friday's game, is that understood?"

"But I—"

"I don't want to hear anything from you anymore, Scott! Now leave my court, and come back when you can actually _use_ that arm of yours!" he shouted, already regretting his last words once he saw the kid's face fall.

"Screw you!" Nate yelled, suddenly looking more hurt than angry, or so Whitey thought. Storming out of the gym without looking back once, he made a show of banging the door as loud as he could before disappearing in the hallway; like a small, deeply hurt child… Whitey took a deep, calming breath. He allowed his shoulders to sag and his lungs to deflate. Sighing, he finally turned toward his team, and looked into a bunch of apprehensive faces. Even from over where the little group of cheerleaders was practicing, he felt worried stares pierce his back uncomfortably. Briefly closing his eyes to fight a feeling of resignation, a feeling that had become a constant companion since his team had been so tragically decimated, he eventually forced himself to shout out, "What are you all waiting for, huh? Practice is not over yet! So get your sorry asses back on there and show me that you can still pull it off!"

That said, he eventually made his way back to the stands. Of course that other Scott boy was still sitting there, had witnessed everything. The old coach sighed again. What was it with those Scotts? Each and every one of them proved to be a nuisance; some sooner, some later. Some more so than others, yet they all seemed to have only one aim in life, make Whitey's life yet a little harder. At least Lucas wasn't trying to play ball again… yet. He wouldn't be ready to for quite a while, the old man was afraid to admit to himself; just as Nathan wasn't ready yet. With him, Whitey couldn't quite shake the feeling that his starting practice so soon after he had been released from the hospital hadn't even really been so much his own decision than that of a certain older Scott.

"Lucas," Whitey said once he reached the blond boy, eyeing the new kid sitting in the stands suspiciously. "And you are?" the Coach in him asked, already suspecting the unknown boy to be some spy or other.

"Greg Anders, Sir. I guess I'm still sorta the new kid around this school…"

"Uh huh…," Whitey merely mumbled, disregarding the boy as soon as he knew he didn't pose a threat to revealing his tactics for the next game. "Lucas. Guess you heard my little… exchange with your brother back there. I know you boys still haven't quite made it up to each other, but I was wondering—"

Lucas, taking pity on his struggling Coach, interrupted him. "I'll go after him, Coach." With a nod, he wheeled around and made his way out of the gym, where he had felt so out of place anyway. Besides, this way he would also get rid of that Greg-idiot.

-o0o-

Once Nathan had showered and changed, he left the locker room, still feeling incredibly angry. That Whitey wouldn't let him play was bad enough. But how was he to tell his father the news? Dan and his stupid overzealous attempts to bring Nathan straight into the NBA.

_And don't pass go…_

Sighing, he turned a corner, running straight into Haley James of all people. Awesome; that was all he needed after today's tutoring lesson, and now that run-in with the Coach. At least she hadn't lost her books like the girls always did in those stupid chick flicks. No, she was standing there, hugging her pile of books tightly as if without them, she might lose all her footing, or whatever. She probably _was_ lost without anything to read.

"Haley."

"Nathan, hi." She stared at him. With neither of them saying anything for the next couple seconds, the moment stretched on until the awkwardness became nearly unbearable.

"Listen," he therefore finally said only half looking at her. "About earlier… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" He was bad with apologies. Usually, the girls made him struggle on finding something to say that would explain his behavior. Haley, though, didn't seem to wallow in seeing him fight his discomfort for she hurried to assure him, "I know. I shouldn't have pressed you, I guess. But, Nathan, you know if there's anything you want to talk about…"

"Yeah, uh… Thanks Hales." God, the way she was looking at him nearly made him forget what she had implied; and finally he was all set on ignoring her words and give in to that strong urge to kiss her—if only he could fight that annoying worry she might just back away.

"Nathan?"

"Huh?"

A frown crossed Haley's features. He seemed so far away again. She leaned back a little to be able to see his face. She just couldn't help herself, she was worried about him. Still; for since she had sat with him in the ambulance after the accident she had never really stopped worrying about him. Not one second… And now, after the things he had written in that stupid essay she had assigned him to write earlier, her fear that something was deeply wrong about his relationship with his father had increased even more. If Dan Scott's appalling behavior toward Luke was anything to go by, living with the man on a day to day basis must be hell. Haley didn't even dare picture what horrors Nathan was probably enduring when no one was there to watch him and his dad.

"Are you sure you're alright? If there's anything I can do…"

He smiled then, not so much a cocky grin as a sad and small smile. "Yeah, well…," he said, his voice coming out as a quiet rasp. There sure was something she could do… Yet, he was sure that after today's disastrous tutoring session, she didn't only see him as some no-good jerk, but also as a hopeless case with an abhorring view on things. As memories of when he was still in the hospital and she had basically seen him break down suddenly flashed his mind, he couldn't help but flinch. Shouldering his bag, he decided to flee, his brain still refusing to come up with anything to say as parting words just when suddenly he saw her bend forward and gently brush her lips against his.

Shocked, Haley backed away almost instantly, cursing herself for the horrible slipup. What in the world had made her think this was an appropriate time for a kiss? What had made her think that he might even do so much as reciprocate that kiss? Scrunching up her face, closing her eyes, she bit out a tiny "I'm sorry," not daring to open her eyes again. Oh gosh, she didn't want to see his face now, didn't want to see his expression. (Surprise? Anger? Or worse, amusement?) Taking a peek out of one eye eventually, she was surprised to see him leaning his head forward a little, before he gently moved to raise her chin with his uninjured arm, forcing her to look up at him again. It felt like that moment lasted forever, and yet it all happened in no more than a few split seconds before she finally felt Nathan's lips on hers again, felt their soft touch. And finally, she gave in to his forays, which she had initiated in the first place... Opening her mouth, she gently nipped his lower lip before allowing his tongue into the warm cavity of her mouth and…

"Oh my God, I'm… so sorry!" the two suddenly heard someone blurt out in obvious shock behind them. With a jolt they broke free of each other, startled. Exchanging one sheepish look, they turned to face the intruder.

"Luke!" Haley gasped, sounding strangely out of breath to her own ears. She wasn't pleased to have been interrupted by her best friend. Worse, though, was the fact that she felt terribly guilty all of a sudden. After all, Lucas had just found her kissing his half-brother. And even though she knew that much had changed since the accident and both guys might be able to tolerate each other's presence these days, she also knew that they weren't exactly friends, either—not to mention real brothers…

"Ah, well, I… I was just checking whether Nate is alright. Guess he _is_, so…," Luke improvised. Admittedly, he had been caught a little off guard by what he had run in there. Haley kissing Nathan… He had to let that sink in. "I better be going… Haley."

Awkward.

"Yeah," Nathan agreed, "I should be going, too…"

"Wait! You two!" Haley suddenly shouted, making both boys stop instantly. "Okay, now I know this was awkward, but… Lucas, I…"

"It's okay, Haley," he muttered. He wondered what it was that made him feel so angry all of a sudden, an anger he desperately tried to keep in check as he could do without causing a scene in the middle of the hallway. To his surprise Haley snapped, "Yes, I know it is."

Haley had felt guilty before, but Lucas's condescending tone enraged her somewhat. Therefore, she didn't continue the way she had intended to, and rather asked, "You came to check on Nathan?" She scrutinized her friend's face thoroughly, trying to see past his mask. She was acutely aware of Nate's presence at her side, so much in fact, that she noticed him getting strangely nervous and starting to fidget, all that without even having to look at him.

"Yeah," Lucas confirmed, raising his head a little in defiance at that air of command in his best friend's attitude.

"Why would you want to check on him?"

"Do I need your permission to worry about my brother now?"

"So he's your brother all of a sudden?"

Growing more and more uncomfortable around the two friends, Nathan lamely called out, "Guys…"

Haley and Lucas fell quiet.

Lucas internally debated with himself whether it might actually be for the best to let things rest. Still, he knew what he had seen back in the gym, just as he knew what he had seen back in that terrible night. And even if he wanted to, he couldn't for the life of him go back to how things had been before the accident. Thus he couldn't hate Haley for kissing the enemy. Because Nathan no longer was the enemy; and because Lucas didn't despise him any longer. And because Lucas couldn't help worrying about the guy even if he tried. Therefore he eventually made a decision and quietly said, "Nathan. You _are_ all right, right? I mean…"

Nathan stared at him, a heavy frown settling on his features.

"I mean, you coming back to practice so soon—it doesn't have anything to do with Dan making you—"

"Fuck you, Lucas!" his younger brother blurted and rushed out of the building so suddenly that it left both Lucas and Haley startled in his wake.

"Luke, what…"

"Fuck," hissed Lucas and shot a glance up into Haley's worried face before starting to wheel his way out, too.

"Luke. Lucas!"


	15. 15

-o0o-

Brooke's head whirled around in time to see her boyfriend wheel his way out of the gym. She couldn't quite tell why, but after she saw him leave it became nearly impossible for her to concentrate back on her duties as cheerleader captain. At some time Peyton even came up to her to scold her for constantly ruining the girls' efforts to complete a new series of dance moves. But not until the blonde lightly smacked her across both cheeks did Brooke's senses finally return in full.

"Ouch, P!" she whined. "What did you do that for?"

"Excuse me?" said her friend. She sounded slightly exasperated, Brooke noticed.

"Yeah, I mean…"

"You mean, you weren't paying any attention whatsoever in the last couple minutes, Brooke Davis. If you go on like that we'll all look like complete idiots coming Friday because you'll be stepping out of line throughout our whole goddamn performance."

"But…," Brooke started, falling silent almost instantly once she saw the looks on the faces of the other girls. They seemed to be more than a little discouraged, and with a pang Brooke realized that the reason for that was she. She hadn't been paying any attention—and not just since that day. No; ever since the accident, ever since Lucas had been injured so badly she had no longer been paying attention to anything other than the progress he was making. And now that he was actually back at school… Frowning, she stared at her best friend.

"Oh P. I'm so sorry, I—God, I can't believe I've been such a bad captain all those last weeks. Such a bad BFF!"

She must have looked comically devastated since all of a sudden Peyton started laughing, then pulled the somewhat dumbfounded brunette in for a hug. "B. Davis, that's alright," she laughed. "We all know how in love you are…"

"I'm—," Brooke pouted. Yet her lack of anything smart to say only made her look like an upset little girl, not a teenager with world-shattering words of wisdom for the masses.

"Aw, B., don't deny it. It's okay, really. I suggest that I take over for today, though, if we want this to look halfway decent by the time of the game. And you: go and follow Lucas now." Turning to the other girls she said smirking, "Because don't we all know that that is what your downstairs brain wanted you to do right from the second he came back to school today?"

Gasping in exasperation, Brooke lightly slapped her best friend's arm, only earning her another heartfelt laugh. "Your dirty imagination, Peyton, not mine…," she half-chanted, before taking the blonde's advice and walking out of the hall, a big grin now plastered across her face.

So, she better tried to find Lucas fast…

-o0o-

Haley was of course faster than Lucas with his stupid wheelchair. He had tried to quicken his pace, but after a while the strength in his arms had reached a limit and he couldn't go any faster. Hence it was only natural for his best friend to finally overtake him, and with an exclamation somewhere between a choke and a shout, he heard her say in passing, "I'll handle this, Luke, okay? Let me…"

So there he was, still on his way following his half-brother. Or rather, brother, since why would one kiss turn him into a mere half-brother again? No, it wasn't like Luke didn't like Nathan and Haley getting closer like that… Or maybe it was. Didn't mean he was not mature enough to deal with it. He was not Nate after all. He didn't make other's pay for the things he himself had difficulties with.

Right, he thought, keep telling yourself that, man, and maybe you'll eventually be able to believe yourself. Sighing, he forced himself to continue his way until he saw that Hales had apparently just managed to catch up with his younger brother. Good. That gave him a bit more time to reach the two of them, because, seriously, he needed to talk to the guy. About Dan, about other things, too. Probably even the accident, although he still remembered the exact words of what Nathan had said to him last time he had tried to bring that subject up.

"_Luke, you really wanna go there? I mean, really? Coz, if you do, I'd have to go there as well. I'd have to admit to myself that nothing of it would probably have happened—if I hadn't been so wasted—if I hadn't screwed up at the friggin' game—if I hadn't persuaded Tim and the others to go to that stupid party instead of having our own over at the beach house—"_

Lucas closed his eyes briefly, stopping in his tracks for only a moment. He wasn't sure he himself could go there again, either. He just didn't know. Yet it might be the only smart thing to do for them. Surely their bottling everything up was not the right way of dealing with things…

"Nathan? Can we talk?" he suddenly heard Haley's voice once he was close enough to overhear the two.

"Haley…"

"Please. Nathan, what's going on with you? What Lucas was implying…"

"God, Hales, what's with the pretty words, huh?"

A frown appeared on her face, wiping away some of the worry and replacing it with anger. "Fine. Then you tell me the ugly truth you Scotts are trying to hide with all those 'pretty words' of yours!—And _don't_ think you can run away again, Nathan. Not this time," she threatened, though her tone was rather soft and gentle for an actual threat. Lucas noticed how she held onto his brother's arm, effectively keeping him from walking away. Though if Nate had honestly wanted to leave, she wouldn't have posed much of a hindrance.

The whole situation felt uncomfortably charged, and Lucas thought it would probably be for the best if he'd stepped in and separated the two before Nathan managed to hurt Haley with his patent arrogant-jock routine once he found himself cornered in one way or another. "Nathan," he therefore began, only to be surprised as Haley shot him a killing glance.

"Lucas, go. I said I'd handle this…," she hissed, shushing him with a movement of her free arm. He could only stare at her, a little startled by her sudden venom. "Go," she mouthed again. It was then that he realized that Nathan hadn't been looking at him, not for one second. Strangely, that realization hurt quite profoundly, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why it would. It was just… Obviously, something convinced his best friend that she was in a position to deal with Nathan's shitty attitude while she doubted Luke's presence would do any of them any good.

But they were brothers, weren't they? Didn't they have all too many things in common these days? A horrible traumatizing experience, a more than sorry excuse of a father, basketball… Being brothers….

Haley.

"Haley, I don't think you…"

But she only glared at him, effectively silencing him with the way she wordlessly indicated Nathan's tenseness, his sudden seclusion from them. And then her glare softened, turning into more of a Haley sort of look, a silent plea. To let her deal with this, let them alone…

… So he did, finally.

-o0o-

"Nathan…"

He didn't look at her. At least he wasn't trying to run away again, either. Still, Haley felt more than a little awkward, standing there at his side, watching him take heaving breaths.

"Nathan," she repeated, lightly tugging at his sleeve, feeling tremendously like a very small child waiting to be noticed by the grownups. "Nathan."

"It's nothing, tutor girl. Just, go back to your books and leave me alone."

Haley's frown deepened. She let go of his arm, but didn't otherwise move. So there he was again, the old Nathan, the jerk, the "before the night of the accident jock with an attitude." He had called her tutor girl again, not Hales, nor even Haley. She had to admit to herself that being called that suddenly stung, because it held no trace of the old light endearment. It was just a derogatory term now, tutor girl. Go back to your books… Haley bit her lip, then made a sudden decision. She would not allow him to go back to his old self. She would not allow him to put up those stupid walls around himself to keep others out, others like Lucas. Or her.

"Tutor girl?" she queried. "So, now that we kissed it's all back to tutor girl? And Lucas? Are you going to try to keep him from reentering the team again?"

"Dang, Haley."

"Nathan?" She knew she was challenging him in a situation where challenging him could be the last straw to make him drop his shutters completely. It couldn't be helped, though, for this was no longer solely about him. It was about them as well.

"Can't—can't you just let it go?" He sounded tired, desperate even. Which was enough to make the lines of her frown soften and calm her fury. He so reminded her of the boy she had first met on that horrible night a couple months ago, the frightened kid with the wide-eyed empty stare, who had been so terribly worried about his brother. Nathan Scott… That was why she couldn't let it go. Not anymore. They were past that stage, even if he tried to deny it.

"No, Nathan. I can't. You'll eventually have to open up to someone, you know that, right? I don't know what it is, whether it is the accident—," she saw him flinch, but continued nonetheless. Because if she didn't speak her mind now, she wasn't sure she would find the courage later. "—Or whether it is anything to do with your dad, and the things you wrote in that essay, or with what Luke was talking about—"

"Lucas doesn't know shit, Hales!" he inserted heatedly, but she chose to ignore it.

"Either way. I want you to know that I'm here for you, okay? You can ignore me all you want. You can deny our kiss, or… or what there was between us the other day, when your dad showed up. But I know it was there. I know what I feel. And I won't deny it. Not even if you fall right back into old habits and behave like that stupid jerk who thinks he owns the place just because he is Nathan Scott.—"

"Hale—"

"I won't!" she spoke over him. She was starting to feel really stupid. In fact, she was cursing herself for having started talking in the first place. But now she simply couldn't go back anymore. She couldn't. "Because I love you, you idiot. And you… you can treat me like crap all you want—though I'll tell you now that Lucas won't have any of that. He is more my big brother than yours in that department so… you better keep that in mind…," She was really making things worse. The way he was looking at her now was making things worse. That mixture of true wonder, and bewilderment, and… affection, maybe?

Nathan was half smiling now, but only half.

Eventually daring to approach him, she slowly walked right up to him until she stood right in front of him. He was still avoiding her eyes. She let him, for the time being. Haley felt him tense again, before her hand even touched him. She saw his expression return to a hard frown. When she finally put one hand on his cheek, with the other fisting his shirt, she felt him flinch and back away again. This time, though, she moved to close the gap between them, showed him that she meant no harm. "I'm right here, Nathan," she whispered, no longer sure whether her closeness to his body was more intended to calm and reassure her, or him.

Finally, with a sigh, the youngest Scott faced her, his eyes flickering darkly, yet not unkindly. With apparent defeat tingeing his words, he muttered, "You won't give up, huh?"

And all she could get out was one breathed "No."

"It'll sound stupid," he hedged, still trying to find a way out of it all. But Haley just gave him a warm look and shook her head. So he continued, "It's really… nothing, I'm just… I'm just…"

It would have been cute, or funny even, seeing him stutter like that, seeing the cocky Scott kid fight insecurity, if it hadn't been for the look he suddenly gave her, shockingly glassy-eyed and pained. Or for the deep lines appearing on his forehead.

"It's okay," she repeated then, soothing—or trying to, as she pulled him in for a hug.

-o0o-

Lucas felt more than a little awkward. Having been sent away by his best friend, who he knew now tended to his enigma of a brother in his stead; it felt wrong. In a twisted sort of way it just felt wrong. Of course it wasn't exactly like he had been much of a caring brother to Nathan before. (Not to mention vice versa…) And yet…

His brooding was interrupted quite suddenly, though, as Brooke called his name from only a few feet down the hallway.

"Hey, Scott!" she shouted. Still wearing her full cheerleading attire and running to meet him, she looked gorgeous; a true stunner. It was enough to make a small, short-lived smile appear on Luke's face, though not enough to smooth the lines of worry on his forehead. "Hey," she repeated once she reached him and came to a spot right in front of him, effectively stopping him from continuing his way. Oh, how he hated sitting in that darn wheelchair, when all he wanted to do now was put his arms around her and hold her tightly, pressing her body to his.

She smiled at him at first, one of her sweet dimpled-cheek smiles that always got down right to his core. It didn't last long, though, since he failed to return it.

"You were gone all of a sudden," she said, the words sounding lame even to her own ears.

"Yuh," he made, not sure what else to say.

"Is Nate alright?"

Lucas shot her a glance. "You know him…," he muttered tiredly, "Tough guy." He sounded unconvinced and Brooke frowned at him. She cocked her head. Scrutinizing him, she tried to make out whether he actually believed what he just said. _Tough_… It was all those Scotts seemed to care about. But somehow she hadn't thought of him as one of them. Until now.

She nodded anyways, "Yeah. He is. I guess… He seemed pretty upset, though. Back there…"

"Brooke," he hedged, suddenly unwilling to talk about his brother with her.

"I'm just wondering. You and him, are you guys really okay, Lucas?" She kneeled down in front of him in order to be able to face him at eye-level. A part of him hated her for it, hated her for making him even more aware of his current situation. Sitting in a wheelchair, his girlfriend having to kneel down to face him, like someone would to face a child…

"Course we are," he said, just as his expression turned more angry.

"_Okay_…"

"What are you getting at, Brooke, huh?"

"Never mind, Luke. Let's just go back to the gym now, shall we?"

"No. Honestly, what were you trying to say just now?"

"Lucas…"

"Tell me."

Brooke sighed, already sensing the bad outcome of their whole conversation. And she had no one to blame but herself. Lucas really wasn't ready yet to face all his demons. She hadn't kept most of her worries, her thoughts about that night to herself for nothing. No…

"Luke," she said warningly in one last attempt at trying to keep him from pursuing that topic any farther. But to no avail.

"Brooke…"

"Fine. But don't get mad at me for saying this. I warned you."

"Just go ahead."

"Promise me."

"Brooke." He sounded annoyed, but she wanted him to say it. Because she knew him, she knew his type. She knew the Scotts, and how screwed they all were.

"Alright, okay. I promise. So?"

"I'm worried for you, Lucas, okay? That's all. We haven't really talked about that night, yet."

"Yes we have."

"No. Lucas, no. Not really. We haven't talked about it at all. I don't even know whether you are dealing with it all right. With the others' deaths, with what you have been through. You—you haven't talked about what it was like for you that night, all alone in… in that car. You haven't talked about what happened with you and Nathan—"

"Brooke, it's—there's not all that much to say about it. You already know everything there is to know. We had an accident. People died. We survived. Period."

Brooke smiled at him sadly, placing a hand on his knee, mindful not to touch his injured leg. Still, Lucas tensed under her touch, thus making her pull away. Again, her smile vanished. Worry replaced it. "Don't, Lucas. Don't make it sound like a trifle. It wasn't—it _isn't_. You can go on bottling it all up inside of you all you want. It won't go away."

"I know that, Brooke, okay? I know that. And I'm _not_. Bottling it up… Now, let me go back to—"

"So what if I told you that Brooke and I were kissing that night? I mean, you guys had practically broken up, hadn't you? Right, Brooke?" someone else's voice suddenly chimed in incongruously. With a start, Brooke jumped to her feet as Lucas repositioned his wheelchair so as to be able to see who had interrupted their awkward conversation.

Greg…

"Lucas, we…," Brooke began. But right then, Lucas was in no mood to listen to anymore of that crap. He had gone to check on Nathan. Nathan Scott of all people, who had been nothing but a nuisance to him in a life prior to this. A nemesis, even…

Yet strangely, all he wanted was for that nemesis to return, and all the other crap to just vanish. He could deal with Nathan being a jerk he hated. As long as he had a best friend, a beautiful girlfriend, a freakin' _life_.

Now, though, all he had was an unwanted brother he nevertheless couldn't stop worrying about, a best friend who was too much in love with said brother to be there for Lucas much, a girlfriend who made him realize that he hadn't really processed all those terrible memories as sufficiently as he had made himself believe, and a life as a cripple who was told his girlfriend had made out with the one guy he honestly couldn't stand one bit though he might even owe him his goddamn life.

So what did Paul Auster once write? _Everything falls apart. But not every part of every thing. At least not at the same time._

Right, Lucas thought. Maybe he just had to find the few things that hadn't fallen apart, yet. Maybe there was still hope. No matter how much he doubted it just now… And without being able to look Brooke, or even that idiot Greg in the eyes, he pushed past them, ignoring Brooke's shouts for him to let her explain, though deep inside of him he knew he couldn't really blame her.

For if he was quite honest, the only one to blame for any of all this was he, Lucas Eugene Scott. Who had not only screwed up his own life, but also that of his brother, and that of Tim, and Bevin, and… no, he couldn't even say their names…

He heard footsteps behind him, then just as he felt his eyes start to sting with the burn of tears. He heard them slapping the concrete floor in a fast-paced light rhythm and knew that he couldn't even run away anymore.

He couldn't…


	16. 16

-o0o-

Usually, Brooke would have never—not for one second—been grateful for Lucas' current inability to walk. When she watched him turn away from her and make his way to the exit, though, she thanked her lucky stars for the fact that Lucas couldn't go much faster than walking pace with the wheelchair.

"Lucas!" called Brooke after him. Already, she had nearly caught up with him, acutely aware of another presence somewhere behind her back. She tried to ignore it, she tried to ignore _Greg Anders_—the guy she should never have kissed.

"Lucas, stop!" she choked out again, as she finally reached him. Grabbing the handles of his wheelchair, she forced him to a stop. An angry flare in his eyes made her flinch, but she stood her ground nonetheless. For Brooke Davis was determined; she didn't just back away. Not because of a kiss and a little something extra that had happened weeks ago—and happened because Lucas had basically cheated on her with her best friend! Oh no; she wouldn't have any of that now. Lucas had no right to behave like that. He had no right to act like the one who had been wronged. He had no right; and Brooke was certain that he was more than aware of it. Knowing him, he was probably using the whole little Greg episode as an excuse to continue denying the impact the accident had had on his life, denying that anything other than his leg had gotten damaged that night.

Lucas whirled around, the wheels screeching as he did. "What, Brooke? What? Are you going to tell me that it didn't mean anything? Or that it was just the comeback I deserved after Peyton and I…" His eyes, suddenly swimming with tears, betrayed his feelings, and he fell silent. He had nearly forgotten their argument at the beach and how close they had come to breaking up their relationship that night. Only now did he begin to realize how much he had actually shoved to the back of his mind in the face of the terrible accident. Brooke, Peyton, his jumbled feelings, the lost game, Dan's angry glare, Haley—begging him to take Nathan home, Tim… the car keys… And Brooke. Brooke, with a guy he hadn't recognized—because he hadn't known him then…

_He knew she was mad. She had all right in the world to be. Lucas had kissed Peyton, had nearly slept with her—if it hadn't been for Peyton's intervention at the last minute. "She's my best friend, Luke. We can't," she had said, pleading. And he? Cursing himself, he had to admit that he had been disappointed. With Peyton, he ceased to feel certain about his feelings for Brooke. There was just something between him and the blonde that sent the proverbial sparks flying._

_Now, though, as he saw his girlfriend flirt with some stranger, he couldn't deny feeling terribly jealous, and angry, and achingly in love with the brunette. Oh, he deserved it, he was sure. But that realization didn't stop him feeling hurt and wronged and… Lucas forced himself to get a grip. He forced himself to look away and ignore Brooke's giggling and flirting and—God, did she just kiss that dude? Lucas ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He knew her; he knew that she wanted him to confront her just so that she could attack him for what he had done._

"_Lucas!"_

_Mouth. Good old Mouth. Lucas was more than grateful when he saw his friend walk up to meet him. "We've been looking for you, man—after that girl fight… whoo—"_

"_Wha—," he made, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Girlfight?_

"_Dude, don't tell me you didn't see Brooke and Peyton going at it." Mouth must have seen the disbelieving look on Lucas's face, just as he must have noticed how uncomfortable his friend suddenly felt, because with a pat on Luke's shoulder, he simply continued, "God, I can't imagine something like that ever happening to me. I mean, come on, girls fighting over you? How awesome is that?—Come on, Luke, man, don't look at me like that. Let's go, Haley'll be glad I found you, she's been looking for you…"_

_Numbly, Lucas followed his friend, nearly stumbling into his somewhat absent looking half-brother on the way. "Dude, watch it," was the only warning he received. But Lucas was feeling too subdued to say anything in return. And anyways, all he still wanted was for Brooke to be with him and not with that other guy… He wanted Brooke._

_And finally he knew that he had wanted her all along._

"Dude," Greg suddenly piped up again, having come up behind Brooke. She felt ready to hit him, but to her surprise, it was Luke who suddenly hissed, "Stay out of this, Greg. Do us a favor and go."

"Lucas, I'm sorry, it was never my intention to—"

Lucas started grinning. "You better not finish that sentence, okay?"

"Seriously, man, you are way uptight. All I was trying to say was that Brooke and I—"

"You—," Brooke turned to face him. Strangely, her angry tone satisfied Lucas immensely.

Greg shrugged. "What?"

"What? You followed us, without any apparent reason, and all you have to say is 'Brooke and I kissed that night?' What is wrong with you, Greg?—Don't you know that what happened between us that night didn't mean anything?"

"Whoa, Brooke. Wait—"

"You knew I was upset. You had seen me and Peyton. You knew that I had a boyfriend, and you took advantage of the situation. Fine, I don't blame you, it's not like I didn't enjoy it. But that was back then, and it has nothing to do with now. Get over it, Greg. There will never be more between us, no matter what you're trying to do here now." Brooke had been so intent on making that clear to him that she didn't realize how his expression changed from amused to angry. When suddenly he seized her arm and forced her to step closer to him, she felt herself grow tense, frightened even.

"Let go of her!"

"Said the cripple," Greg sneered without looking at Lucas who stared daggers at the bulky guy who was now holding onto his girlfriend.

"I said let go of her."

Brooke, wide eyed, couldn't turn her eyes off Greg's face. Forcing her stuttering brain to get working again, she eventually tried to wiggle her way out of his grasp, but she wasn't successful. "I'm going to scream if you don't let go of my arm," she finally forced out between gritted teeth, trying to sound more self-assured than she felt. But Greg's hold on her only tightened, and she felt him push her up against the wall, pinning her between the cold concrete and his too warm body, his free hand now placed over her mouth.

"So, who's going to stop me from kissing you again, now, huh? Pretty?"

Brooke had the odd sensation of witnessing herself, and witnessing Greg's mouth come closer and closer to hers. She couldn't believe how she had ended up being stuck in this situation when all she had wanted to do in the first place was go and check on Lucas. Now, though…

She was just about to develop a full-blown panic attack, when all of a sudden, she felt herself being released from Greg's grasp as someone lunged himself at the guy, pushing him to the ground.

Lucas.

Lucas had hoisted himself out of the wheelchair in the face of Brooke's demise and had put all his strength into attacking her assailant. It hadn't sounded like the greatest idea in the first place, what with his injured leg and everything. And yet he hadn't known what else to do. Now, though, wrestling with the guy, the whole enterprise seemed to turn worse and worse as Greg managed to kick at Luke's hurt leg, and Lucas had to fight hard to at least get in a few punches of his own.

"Lucas! No!" he heard Brooke scream but was too intent on fighting Greg to be aware of much else than the fact that fighting the guy proved to be pretty futile. Great, he thought…

-o0o-

After a while, Haley gently loosened her hold on Nathan and took a step away. She watched him closely as he ran a hand through her hair, a distant look on his handsome face. She wondered what was going on behind his shuttered eyes, wondered what it could be that he was about to tell her, just when he finally said,

"If it hadn't been for you I don't know what would have happened…"

Haley frowned. "Nathan. What do you mean?"

"Nothing. I… You think I'm a jerk, right?" For a second, a grin played across his face, but it was gone again so soon Haley wondered whether she had ever seen it in the first place.

"Nathan—"

"No, that's okay. I guess I am. I don't know how not to be, Hales. With a dad like Dan… God, I'm so tired of it all. To him all that matters is basketball. But after—after… He expects me to go on like before but I don't think I can do that. Haley, I…"

He shot a pained look at her before training his gaze on the ground beneath him, effectively avoiding her eyes.

"You don't have to, Nathan. If you don't want to play basketball—"

"No. You don't understand. It's not—you don't know my father, Haley. What he did to Lucas in the hospital… He's…" Nathan stopped. Suddenly, his gaze met hers. The intensity of his stare made her knees feel weak and unsteady. A part of her wanted him to continue, to finally confirm what she had suspected all along. Another part, though, and maybe even the bigger one, didn't want to hear any of it, wanted to remain ignorant of it all. But she had seen what Dan had done to Lucas. And she had seen Nathan's reaction back at the hospital, when he had pretty much broken down in front of her…

"I can't make him stop," Nathan quietly choked out then. And Haley's focus fully turned toward him again. "I just can't make him stop…"

"Stop what?" she dared whisper. He didn't look at her. In fact, he looked anywhere but at her, because he just couldn't face her now. Already, he had said too much. He had been too friggin' weak back at the stupid hospital. He had allowed her to see how screwed up he really was; and she had seen how screwed up his dad was. It was too late now; and for that he was angry at himself. He should have never said anything in the first place, should have never let her in. Because now he couldn't unsay the things he had said, and he could no longer uphold his tough guy façade. And why the hell was he so damn weak, why couldn't he fight against it, why… He was just so tired of it all, so tired of the memories, so tired of the pain, so tired of his life.

"Nathan…"

He felt the light touch of her hands on his chest and eventually looked down to meet her gaze briefly. He couldn't help wondering what she'd think of a guy who wasn't even able to hold his own against some other person… against his dad…

"It's okay, you know? You can tell me anything. Nathan."

_She had promised. She had promised him his dad would stay out of his life from now on, and then, after his first day back at school, it had been Dan friggin' Scott who had come to get him. As if his life wasn't already awesome enough. Now Dan hadn't only managed to threaten Haley, he had also been smart enough to somehow sneak his way back into Deb's life._

_She had promised Nathan that Dan would no longer be a part of their life. She had said she had already signed the divorce papers. And then Nathan suddenly found himself faced with his father again; and the man was as eager as before to push Nathan to his limits._

"_Come on, son. You can do better than that. Let's show the scouts how quickly you recovered from that accident!" Dan shouted while Nathan fell into a light trot after having run suicides for well on too long. His arm hurt pretty badly, but he didn't feel much inclined to admit to the pain. Dan would only see it as another sign of Nate's inherent weakness and that in turn would only make him force Nathan to practice even more. If the Coach knew about the thorough training sessions his star player was getting at the moment, he would be more than a little surprised. Nathan nearly snorted at the thought of Whitey's disbelieving stare, just as out of nowhere Dan's hand shot toward his neck and he found himself flung to the ground startlingly quickly._

"_How many times do I have to tell you to PAY ATTENTION, dammit! In a real game you are not the only player on the court goddammit. So, act accordingly, watch what the other players are doing and don't wander around daydreaming!" Dan spat, his face mere inches from his son's. Anger darkened his eyes, as he tightened his grip on Nate's neck once again before finally releasing him again and getting up. "Now go take a shower. Enough for today. You should rest your arm a little before we continue practicing shots tomorrow," Dan said, already on his way back into the house, while Nathan still lay on the ground, panting, rubbing his sore throat._

_Cursing himself for not having fought Dan, for not having stood up against him, he eventually got up, and came to stand on wobbly legs. He tried hard to ignore the sick feeling that had settled in his stomach, just as he tried to ignore the pain issuing from his bandaged arm as well as his bruised neck. His life sucked._

_He would never get rid of Dan. Even though Deb had promised… But she had her pills, while he had nothing…_

_Nate swore for the hundredth time to never trust anyone with anything, especially regarding promises. And with a sigh, he finally made his way up to the shower._

"I just can't make him stop," Nathan repeated, no longer really caring that tears had started running down his face. "It only gets worse… Now that Tim is… I can't even go over to his place anymore, when… _crap_…" He couldn't go on.

"Ssh," Haley made, and because she couldn't think of words to say to him, she gently took his face in both her hands and leaning forward kissed him. It was a light kiss at first, yet soon it turned into a more passionate affair as both of them sought comfort in each other's closeness.

Haley might have lost herself completely in that moment, if it hadn't been for Brooke, who suddenly came running toward her and Nathan, gesturing wildly with her arms. "Oh God, Nathan," she cried, unaware of the interruption she had caused. She grabbed Nathan's arm and began pulling him with her before she had even begun to explain the cause of her desperation. "Lucas and Greg, they… Oh God, they are going to kill each other if—"

Nathan shot Haley a glance, then broke into a run, following Brooke back into the school building as quickly as possible…


	17. 17

_Remember, this is a sibling-fic… so there… :)_

-o0o-

He heard someone run in the hallway, the sound of their steps growing ever closer. They were coming because of the commotion he and Greg were making, Lucas realized, just as unfortunately he felt his head impact with the unyielding concrete underneath. The dull thud reverberated through his brain and he felt all strength leave his body. His hands grew numb. Although Lucas tried his best to fight against it, his hold onto his opponent's arms slackened. His eyelids grew strangely heavy as haziness started clouding his mind, and Lucas rather heard then actually felt Greg punch his head again and again and…

… Suddenly, the punches stopped. As he suffered one last mind-numbing blow to the back of his skull, Lucas gratefully welcomed the dark edges of impending unconsciousness; until he heard a shrill and shocked-sounding voice call out his name, then that of his brother. "Oh my God, Luke… Oh God… Nathan, he's—Nathan? Oh no… stop, Nate! It's over, he's not fighting anymore, he's—oh God Haley, we—we need to do something! Nathan! Crap…"

The shadowy figure whose knees had barely touched the ground beside Lucas rose again. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. In the brightness coming off of the lights at the ceiling, he eventually identified Brooke. Right, Brooke—that's why he had started fighting in the first place. That SOB Greg had had the nerve to threaten her…

"Nathan, don't! Oh God, please stop! No no no no no. Please…"

"Oh God, Haley, make him stop. Make him stop! He's going to kill him. He's going to _kill_ him!"

"Nathan!"

A surge of adrenaline brought back Lucas's senses as he heard the girls' voices grow panic-filled. The sound made him battle the unconsciousness his battered head was so desperately craving. But it was necessary. Something was going on; something bad. It involved his brother and Lucas couldn't let anything bad happen again, not when Nathan was involved, or Brooke before him. Only half lucid, Lucas heard Brooke beg for Haley to make it stop. Make _him_ stop. And all he could think was, 'Nathan.' Forcing his eyes to stay open he tried to pick himself up unaided and slowly turned his head. The motion made him dizzy, forced him to wait a few seconds for his vision to clear. Then, his gaze fell on Brooke, whose eyes widened in surprised shock. "Lucas!" she yelled before she hurried over to help him stand while just a little to their side Nathan was taking it out on Greg. By the looks of it, he came closer and closer to beating the guy to a pulp and yet he didn't show even the slightest signs of intending to stop. He didn't lessen the force of his punches, not even when a pain-filled yell escaped Greg, and Lucas was sure he'd heard the guy's nose break with a sickening crack. It was then that he suddenly went on autopilot, watching himself as he surged forward, toward his brother.

He had to make him stop.

"Please," sobbed Brooke, while Haley was imploring Nathan to "Let go," while she was helplessly trying to pull him away from Greg.

"He is not worth it, Nathan," she cried, tears streaming down her flushed face. "Please, you'll kill him!" She choked on her words as sudden realization dawned on her and she whispered, "It's alright. He can't hurt Luke anymore," and a little more loudly, "He won't hurt him now…"

No matter her pleas, though, Nathan remained unresponsive to them. He didn't intend to let the guy get away with what he had done to Lucas. In fact, he wanted to make him pay for hurting Lucas, for beating up his brother, who had been in no position to defend himself properly at the time. Beating up a guy in a wheelchair; could someone really be any more despicable? But Nathan would show him what it meant to mess with a Scott. He would show him all right!

Strangely, it was nearly a gentle movement when suddenly someone grabbed a hold of Nathan's arms and tore him away from the Anders kid. He was barely aware of it until his gaze fell on his bloodied hands that were no longer able to strike blows at the sucker's face. Only then did he get aware of the fact that someone was circling his torso with their arms from behind. "Stop fighting me, Nate, goddammit," someone hissed insistently, and Nathan finally identified the voice as that of his older brother.

Luke? He thought, but was unable to say anything. Panting, he felt his breath catch in his lungs as he stared ahead of him to where Greg lay, covering his face with both hands, whimpering pathetically. Nathan could only watch as Haley knelt down beside the guy and tried to console him. She didn't seem to know whether she should touch Greg. Her hands nervously clenching and unclenching, she looked from Greg to Lucas, then to Nathan. Her eyes held an inscrutable expression. Shock, contempt, disappointment? All of the above at once probably, but Nathan didn't care—or told himself that he didn't, though his heart grew heavy at the thought…

He didn't quite understand what had happened. He only realized that Lucas was holding onto him, pulling Nate away with him. Out of the corner of his eye, Nate saw his brother's upended wheelchair lying on its side, abandoned. Nathan frowned as his gaze fell onto his hands once more, onto his torn and throbbing knuckles, then onto Greg's face. It took a while before comprehension eventually set in and he realized what he had done.

He had pretty much lost it, he figured. He had acted out of some screwed up sense of protectiveness of his family; of his brother, a sense of protectiveness toward others he never knew he was capable of…

"You—you are crazy!" Greg suddenly blurted, trying to struggle into a sitting position, shoving Haley to the side. Haley, who had merely tried to assist him, backed away almost instantly and eyed him warily. "You Scotts…," Greg choked out, before spitting some blood onto the floor. His voice sounded muffled even after he had taken his hands away from his dropping nose. "You fucking broke my nose, Scott!" he yelled at Nathan, shooting killing glances at both him and Lucas. It took all Luke's strength to keep Nate from rising to the bait while at the same time keeping himself in a standing position.

He was standing… Lucas was really standing on his own two feet, and not only was he carrying his own weight, but also that of his brother. He was standing.

If only his head wouldn't hurt so badly. And if only he didn't have the annoying sensation of the ground having started to move underneath him, he thought. His arms grew heavy with Nathan's weight, but he couldn't let go of the kid now; not as long as he was still so angry and upset.

"Lucas…" He saw Brooke edge closer to him, eyeing him worriedly, warily. And though he wanted to warn her to keep some distance, he couldn't get his tongue to work. He simply couldn't. There he stood, Lucas Scott, older brother of Nathan Scott, son of Dan Scott and Karen Roe, nephew of Keith Scott. Boyfriend of Brooke Davis… He was unable to move, unable to speak, unable to do anything but hold onto his brother and put all his strength into keeping Nate from ruining his life, and Greg's—ruining all their lives.

"You fucking broke my nose, you—you crazy sons of bitches, you…," Greg was actually sobbing as he picked himself up off the ground, warily looking from one Scott to the other. Without leaving his eyes off the two brothers he finally took a few careful steps backward, away from them, away from the girls, too. Haley tried to help him staunch the flow of blood issuing from his nose, but he merely pulled away, shoving her to the side. "Leave me the hell alone!" he shot at her, as he saw Nathan fight harder to free himself of his brother's forceful embrace.

"Take your dirty hands off of Haley!" the younger Scott yelled, and for a moment Greg felt fear rise up inside of him as he saw Nathan trying to break free. Then he heard Lucas calmly say, "No, Nate, come on, man. It's okay. Everything's fine, you hear me?"

"That son of a—"

"Nate, man. Haley's fine, right, Hales?" He nodded over to where his best friend stood, shock evident in her whole bearing.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah!" Haley tried to smile. "I'm fine, I'm—good, Nathan. Nothing happened…"

"See?" Lucas continued once Haley's weak assertion had trailed off into silence. "Everything is fine. Not need to protect her—or me… Greg is not going to hurt anyone anymore, alright? Nate?" Suddenly, Greg felt Lucas' gaze burn into him insistently. "Right, Greg?" he queried, startling Greg with his sudden change of address. He caught himself quickly, though, and looked down into his hand where a puddle of blood had already gathered. Greg snorted.

"Let me go, Luke. I—"

"Nathan," Lucas warned without leaving his eyes off of Greg.

"Luke. I won't do anything stupid, okay? Seriously, man."

"Greg?" Lucas repeated. He wanted to make sure the whole situation wouldn't escalate once again before he allowed himself to let go of his brother. Because, after all, this was still Nathan Scott talking. It would surprise no one if he didn't heed his own words. Besides, Lucas was also a little worried that his legs might give way once he no longer had anything to hold onto.

"Do us all a favor and just leave."

"And you don't need to come back any time soon—or, ever!" Brooke quickly inserted. Hugging herself, she stepped up behind Lucas, her hand lightly touching his back in a fleeting moment. But even that little moment helped him see that the whole mess had still been worth it. Greg hadn't been able to come between them, and Lucas was sure that was what he had intended with his whole sudden confrontation all along. Why, though, he couldn't quite understand. And after all those weeks! Wouldn't it have been the smarter move to try something while Lucas was still at the hospital? But an unpleasant grin erupting on Greg's face instantly stopped him from going down that road any farther.

"Aw, come now," Greg said, faux disappointment evident in his intonation.

"Dude," Lucas warned. He wanted to step up to him, but didn't quite trust his own body to carry him forward unaided. So he remained where he was, still lightly holding onto one of Nathan's arms, still carefully watching his younger brother's every reaction. But luckily he hadn't moved an inch, was still somewhat protectively standing half in front of Luke. Therefore, it took Lucas completely by surprise when Greg suddenly lunged forward in a lithe movement and hit Nathan, hard enough for him to stumble backward and crash into Lucas, the blow eventually sending them both down to the ground. Instantly, Luke felt a familiar pain shoot up and down his leg.

But that wasn't even the worst. Nor were Brooke's and Haley's shocked exclamations. No, the worst was yet to come when maybe one or two minutes later an echoing bellow resounded.

"What in the world is going on out here! Lucas and Nathan Scott!" Whitey yelled and Lucas stared up at the old Coach, whose face was red with fury. Looking down again, he found himself bent over Nathan just like before, in the middle of pulling him away from Greg. He closed his eyes briefly, already knowing what was to come…

"You… Shouldn't you know better than that? The two of you, beating up one person? _One_?" Whitey couldn't believe his eyes, couldn't for the life of him believe what he saw: Lucas Scott, tearing his brother away while their bleeding victim was lying sprawled on the ground. Bending down right next to the boy, Whitey made sure that he was still alive before looking up into the brothers' faces again. "I'm…," he was speechless. Turning his gaze toward the two girls present, he ordered them to go and call an ambulance, and Brooke was quick to get her cell phone out and flip it open.

That gave Whitey time to address the kid on the ground. "It's okay, kiddo," he said and lightly patted the boy's shoulder. He stared up at Whitey, slowly raising a hand to the mess that was his nose and whimpering in pain. "The ambulance is already on the way. Now, don't you move too much, son. It's alright, now. They are not going to hurt you anymore." Coach Durham had never been good at that empathizing thing, but he was trying to reassure the poor boy as best he could.

"Coach, I…"

"I don't want to hear anything from you Lucas Scott! You and that useless brother of yours—go to my office and wait there for your parents! And don't think I won't call the police, because I sure as hell will!"

"Whitey, please. I know what it looks like, but—"

"But what? Do you think I'm stupid, Lucas?"

"He's telling the truth, Coach!" Both Haley and Brooke implored him, but he only flashed one angry glance at them. "I didn't think you girls would actually fall for their stupid explanations—"

"But, Whitey…," Brooke started. She didn't get any farther than that, though. "I don't want to hear anything from you, either! Now go and get the school nurse over here.—Leave! Both of you, leave! I no longer want to see either of you here! Go!—And you, Lucas, do you think I didn't see you tear Nathan away from this innocent kid here? Do you think I didn't?—Even if I hadn't, don't you think the poor boy's face speaks for itself?—I thought you were smarter than that, Lucas. After all you've been through; I thought you were smarter." It pained Lucas to hear how upset the old man was, it pained him to see the utter disappointment in his face, but he didn't dare explain that it had not been like that. Not this time…

"So you find out that you are no longer confined to a wheelchair and the first thing you do is get into a fight?—You can't even begin to imagine how disappointed I am, at both of you! But you, Lucas…"

Helplessly, Lucas dropped his gaze into his lap before turning to Nathan. He was sitting leaning against the wall right next to Luke, cradling his arm. They exchanged a glance, then Lucas nodded to the younger one. "Let's do what he said," he eventually whispered and waited for Nathan to move. Once he had slowly risen, Lucas dared indicate himself. "I don't think I can get up on my own…" The pain was just too much again, and besides, he just didn't think he was able to put any weight on his leg again anytime soon. Flinching, he remembered the doctor's instructions to take it easy if he didn't want to make things worse. He hoped he hadn't done any permanent damage to his thigh today… Luckily, Nathan understood him without any further explanation and went to retrieve the wheelchair. Afterward, he helped Lucas sit down.

They had to pass Whitey and Greg on their way to his office. Luke couldn't help feeling disgusted when he heard the guy whimper about how horribly they had beaten him up, distorting the actual events into little more than a farce. For though Whitey had indeed seen him tear Nathan away from Greg—and though yes, Nathan had been close to beating Greg into oblivion previously—things _had_ been different this time.

Because he hadn't kept Nathan from punching out Greg's brain. Rather, he had tried to save _him_ from having his brain punched out by Greg… Shooting a glance up at his brother, Lucas wondered what consequences the whole incident would have on their lives. He was afraid that even if he should ever be able to play ball again, Whitey would never allow him back on the team. He was afraid that the police would believe whichever story Greg told them and then put it on his and Nate's records. The clean slate gone, and with it any chance of earning a scholarship for college, or…

… and what if Greg had seriously suffered some lasting damage because of the fight? What would Lucas do if he were responsible for Greg to no longer be able to live his life as before? With hanging head, he followed Nathan into Whitey's office and tried to ready himself for whatever drama was to follow.

-o0o-

"He—what?"

Keith lifted his head once he heard Karen's voice turn into a screech. She had answered the phone only a couple of seconds ago, and already, her mood had done a complete 180; from light and happy to somewhat shocked and disbelieving. Keith, who was in the middle of repairing a leak in the kitchen sink plumbing, looked up at her, furrowing his brow worriedly. This didn't sound good; no, not at all.

It wasn't like there had been many occasions for happiness in Karen's life lately. But since Lucas had eventually been discharged from the hospital, her mood had begun to lighten ever so slightly, and Keith had thought that the worst lay behind them already. Now, though, he wasn't so sure anymore. Waiting for her to terminate the call, he stood watching her speak with whoever had called her. Then, finally, Karen looked at him and with a beat muttered, "Lucas was involved in a fight at school." Just like that.

Squinting his eyes, Keith looked at her incredulously. He wasn't sure he had understood her quite correctly. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. Your nephew was involved in a fist fight.—Nathan's name was mentioned, too…"

"But, Karen…" Keith stuttered as he approached Lucas's mom. "Luke and Nate; together? In a fight? How—What," he stuttered, too readily able to come up with a fitting scenario involving those two brothers and a fight. "Don't say that after they survived that accident together they still don't get along any better—"

"No, they… Whitey said they beat up someone else. So badly he had to send for an ambulance…," tears were welling in Karen's eyes. "Lucas… God, Keith, I don't think I can take any more of this… I nearly lost Lucas, and now he doesn't have anything better to do than endanger someone else's life—as well as his own health?" And suddenly, Keith found himself being faced with a woman crying in his arms, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed into his shirt.

"Ssh, Karen. It's—it's alright. I'm sure it's not as bad as it sounds, okay?" he assured her somewhat lamely, cursing himself for his clumsy attempt at consolation.

-o0o-

Whitey hung up the phone and stared over to where the blonde Scott sat hunched in his wheelchair, running a hand through his already messy hair. Suddenly the Coach sprang to his feet. "Congratulations! The paramedics said poor Greg's injuries looked worse than they actually are. But you kids broke his nose! You broke his nose, goddammit!" he exclaimed, releasing some of the pent-up anger he had previously fought to swallow down. When both kids failed to show any sort of reaction, he thumped his desk with both his palms. "Lucas and Nathan Scott! Don't you have anything to say to that?"

Neither Lucas nor Nathan said anything, though Whitey caught the brief glance they exchanged.

"What, no story to defend yourselves? Nothing of that 'it's not what it looked like'-crap you previously tried to come up with as an excuse?—Alright, then. Let's wait and see what your parents are gonna say once they get here.—And damn you, boys, you can call yourselves lucky that I didn't call the cops, yet! If the parents of that Anders kid learn what you did, though…"

His gaze turned from one toward the other brother. Both boys were avoiding his eyes, rather staring at their feet instead.

"Do you hear?" Whitey finally took in the state they were in, battered, bruised. While Lucas was distractedly kneading the muscle of his injured thigh, Nathan seemed to be holding his arm in a somewhat suspicious looking posture. Sighing, the Coach grumbled out an involuntarily worried "You boys all right?"

"Yes, Sir," Lucas eventually mumbled, lifting his gaze briefly, but only to check on his brother, who was not responding.

"Nathan?" Whitey called his name and walked over to where the boy sat. "Aw for heaven's sake, if I need to get the nurse in here for you, too…," he muttered, more to himself than to either of the Scotts. Before he could even touch the swollen and bloody looking side of his star player's head, the kid flinched, then hurried to stutter out an unconvincing "'I'm fine."

"Well," Whitey was just about to go and call the nurse anyway, when the door to his office was opened quite forcefully and Dan Scott stormed in.

"Where the hell is he?"

"Hello, Dan. I don't think I called _you_," the old man wondered aloud, squinting at his former student.

"Whitey. Where's my—there you are! Nathan, you stupid idiot!"

"Dan," Coach Durham's warning could be heard as Dan approached his younger son, who was just then rising from his chair.

"Dad…," made Nathan, sounding more than a little apprehensive. Backing away until he felt the concrete of the wall behind him, Nathan never once took his gaze off of his father. Still, he flinched as Dan suddenly yelled, "Goddammit, Nathan!" He felt himself shoved right into the wall, felt his dad grab him in a chokehold, felt his vision grow dim with the lack of oxygen.

Lucas tensed at the sight.

"What are you trying to do here, huh, Nathan? Are you trying to ruin all our lives, son? Your poor mother was worried out of her mind when she heard about the fight! And I thought, no, this can't be right. _My_ son would never get involved in a fight when he barely survived a car crash a few weeks ago and just returned back to full training sessions.—No, not my son."

"Dan." Whitey called out warningly as he walked up to the man.

"Stay out of it, old man!"

"Let go of Nathan, Dan," Whitey hissed, ignoring the man's warning. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw the old coach slowly approach Dan and Nathan. "Let. Go."

"Stay back, Whitey, this is a father-son thing here—none of _your_ damn business!"

"It is, if you choose to throttle your own kid in my office. Let me tell you one thing now, Danny. Either you take your hands off of that boy right now, or you will be surprised at the speed with which I can turn this from a father-son thing into a 'Dan Scott faces his creator' thing!" Whitey threatened. But Dan merely grinned at him.

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

"Well, if that is so…" Dan wasn't paying much attention to Lucas, nor to his younger son's frantic tries to free himself out of his grasp. Thus, he failed to notice that Lucas had fought his way into a standing position once again and was now arming himself with the baseball bat that had previously adorned the wall a little over Whitey's desk.

"Let go of him, you bastard!" Lucas suddenly bit out, before he swung the bat threateningly.

Dan laughed. "Or what, Lucas? Are you going to hit me over the head with that old thing?"

"I swear…"

"Lucas—" Contempt marked the name as Dan spoke it, but Luke chose to ignore that, just as he chose to ignore the man's annoying grin.

Then, suddenly, a dull sound could be heard and everyone in their little group froze; everyone except for Dan, who slowly let go of Nathan, then fell to the ground. Over Dan's unconscious form, Lucas's and Nathan's gazes met. The latter took great gasps of much needed air as his panic-filled eyes bore into his brother's.

"Boys, are you alright?" Whitey called out to them urgently, but to Luke it sounded strangely subdued. "Boys…" Whitey knelt down beside Dan, briefly checking the man's vital signs. As soon as he had assured that he was still breathing, Whitey lifted himself up off the ground again, looking from one boy to the other. Oh, what was he to do with those two?

Lucas stared at him, then turned to face his younger sibling once again, and to his shock, he saw tears welling up in Nathan's eyes as his younger brother let himself sink to the ground. "It's alright, Nate. Dan is…," Lucas faltered, then followed Nate down to the ground. Staring at the kid beside him, he finally repeated, "It's alright. He won't hurt you again, okay?"

A short, desperate laugh escaped Nathan at hearing that. "Oh yeah? You don't know shit, Luke. Seriously, man, no offense, but—you have no friggin' clue what living with this man is like. Nothing's ever gonna stop…"

And suddenly, Nathan started crying for real, leaving an embarrassed and worried older brother to think of something to do. In the end Luke settled on wordlessly imploring Whitey to give them a moment, and clumsily he pulled the kid into a sideways hug.

"You'll see, Nate. This time, it's different…"


	18. 18

-o0o-

Brooke was waiting right outside the room, her hand already placed on the handle of the door in front of her as she tried to make out what Lucas and Nathan were talking about in muffled voices. She had difficulties understanding what they were saying. What she did hear, though, made her skin crawl. It made her want to barge into the room. But she had promised Luke to give him those few minutes alone with his brother, even though her urge to stay by his side had been so achingly strong. If only Haley would hurry to come back to her side. She wouldn't be able to reach Deb Scott anyway, so why couldn't she just give up trying already?

"_My life sucks. I could just as well end it now and no one would think it a loss—"_

"_Don't say that, man. Don't. Say. That…"_

"_Why not? Crap, nothing is… —My life's practically over anyway, what with all this mess going on, now this here… So why—"_

"_Why? Seriously, dude? How can any one person be so freakin' selfish to even _consider_ killing themselves? How can _you_ be so selfish? And after everything—"_

At that, Brooke could no longer restrain herself and burst into the room, where she found the two Scott brothers staring at her. "Okay guys," she said, her tone a mere note short of sounding hysterical. "What's going on in here?" She looked from Lucas to Nathan and back again into Luke's sad eyes. "Brooke," he whispered lamely. But when she waved her hand he fell silent again. "Yes, Lucas, I know I said I'd give you guys a few minutes to talk things over and do your," she air-quoted, "'brother-thing.' But, baby, did I just hear that right? One of you talking about suicide, for God's sake? Don't tell me you idiots are really stupid enough to have survived a horrible car crash only to decide to end your lives by your own hands now? Don't tell me I heard that right. Don't," she threatened, tears of anger and worry already pooling in her eyes. "So? Has either of you got to say anything to that? Nate? Luke? Lucas Eugene Scott."

She felt the boys' piercing stares then, a weird burning sensation, uncomfortably creeping under her skin and straight into her very core. Suddenly, she felt Haley's presence appear at her side.

"Brooke?" the girl queried, holding two steaming cups of coffee in her hand and glancing past Brooke into the room. "What…" Brooke noticed Nathan seek out tutor girl's gaze and hold it, and she let her own gaze travel back to Lucas.

But he had turned his face away from her, and suddenly she knew.

**-o0o-**

"Haley!" Karen saw Lucas's best friend waiting outside the school and ran up toward her, Keith in tow. She enveloped the girl in a brief yet tight hug, then held her at arm's length. "Where are they? What happened, Haley? Where is Lucas?" Only then did she see the other hunched figure who was holding Haley's hand: Brooke, Luke's pretty girlfriend, who looked more than just a little shaken. "Brooke!"

"Hello Ms. Roe," choked the brunette, unable to look Karen in the eyes.

"What happened. Girls…" Karen eventually let go of Haley and moved toward the cheerleader, gently lifting the girl's chin with one hand. "Brooke?"

That was all it took for Brooke to come apart at the seams and start crying all over again. Haley closed her eyes for a moment. Tiredly, she steeled herself for another bout of crying while she continued waiting for the ambulance to arrive. She heard Brooke choke out a heartfelt, "I'm so sorry, Ms. Roe. It's all my fault. It's all my fault. Oh God, why did I ever kiss that guy in the first place? Why didn't I just ignore him? Why is it that it's always me who screws everything up so…so…" Her voice died in a flood of fresh tears and though Karen wanted nothing more than run into the tall school building right away, she couldn't do so without consoling the poor girl first. Wrapping her in her arms, she quietly soothed, "It's okay, Brooke. I'm sure it was not your fault."

"But… you weren't there, Ms. Roe. Oh, you are going to hate me for making Lucas fight Greg. If it hadn't been for me he would have never started it… and and Nathan would never have gotten involved, and we wouldn't be standing here waiting for another goddamn ambulance—"

"_Another_ ambulance?" Karen looked to Haley in alarm, but young girl merely shook her head and said, "Lucas is okay."

"And the police wouldn't be here… and Whitey wouldn't think Lucas and Nathan started it all, and—and Dan wouldn't have made everything so much worse…"

"The police?—And Dan? What does Dan have to do with this?" shrieked Karen, turning her gaze toward Keith who had finally arrived by her side. "Whoa," Keith made, his eyes widening. "Stop. Stop, Brooke. Now, will you girls tell us what happened and bring us to Lucas and Nate? Haley?"

"Sure. It's just, one of us has to wait here, to guide the ambulance in…" Haley looked up at Keith out of eyes wide with evident shock. He placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pressing down on it for a short moment. "Alright," he said and smiled reassuringly. "I'll wait here with you while Brooke—Brooke, do you think you can show Karen the way?"

Brooke looked a little bewildered at first, but finally Keith noticed her getting a grip again. She ran both hands over her hair, smoothing it down a bit, before wiping at the dark smudges of mascara that had appeared underneath her eyes. She was trying hard to force herself to calm down, and Keith appreciated her efforts.

"I'm sorry," she eventually muttered, embarrassed about her little breakdown. She stared at Luke's mom and bit her lip. Karen Roe surely took her to be the typical idiotic cheerleader now, overly emotional and just plain stupid. She wished she could hide, she wished for the ground to open underneath her and swallow her whole, if only it meant Karen would stop scrutinizing her so thoroughly. Suddenly, though, Luke's mom took her by surprise as she hugged Brooke once more, smiled and said. "I'm sure there's nothing _you_ need to apologize for, Brooke. As it is, Lucas is unfortunately more than capable of making a mess of things all by himself. Now, let's go and see what he's gotten himself into this time, alright?"

"Uh huh," made Brooke, grateful for Karen's attempt to console her even though she was surely more than a little worried herself. The two were already on their way into the building, Brooke had started to explain about what—or rather who the ambulance was for—when Karen heard Haley yell her name. Turning around, she saw the young woman stare at her imploringly.

"Please, Karen, Nathan… I'm not sure Whitey will be able to inform Deb and…" She faltered just as Karen said, "I'll see to it that both boys won't have to face the police all by themselves. Trust me, Haley, okay?"

Thank you, Haley muttered, unaware that she didn't say the words out loud.

-o0o-

Whitey stood outside his office, debating with the two police officers who were constantly peering past him through the windows of his office. Finally, the old man had enough of that and suggested they give the boys some space.

"Gentlemen, let me tell you one thing. Those are fine boys," he heard himself say, a little astounded that there was not the slightest note of hesitation discernible in his voice. Then again, he had no doubt that he was indeed telling the two policemen nothing but the truth. The Scott brothers were good kids after all. No matter what had led them to beat up the Anders boy, Whitey had started to believe they might have actually had good reasons for that, too. And after that episode with Dan…

The Coach shivered at the mere recollection and stared down to where he and the officers had laid Dan's unconscious form onto the ground, his head now cushioned by Whitey's jacket.

"Mr. Durham, Sir. You said Mr. Dan Scott was the one who attacked Greg Anders to begin with, before he then went on to attack his own sons?" the older of the two officers was just saying, jolting Whitey out of his musings. Oh, he thought, what would his late wife say if she heard him lie to the police…

"Coach, please," he grumbled, and added, "and, yes Sir, that's exactly what I said."

-o0o-

"_You'll see, Nate. This time, it's different…"_

Lucas heard his own words echo in his head. He couldn't help but feel doubt rise up inside of him. What if he was promising too much? For how was he to help Nathan when so far the guy wasn't exactly known for welcoming any help in his life? Besides, what did Lucas know about what it meant to be living in the same house with Dan? Nathan was right, Lucas had absolutely no clue. Maybe the episode he had witnessed was some typical father-son routine with Dan and Nate. Maybe Nathan was used to such abuse already. Or maybe even to things way worse… Lucas felt himself involuntarily shiver at the thought just as Nathan suddenly pulled away from him again.

"Crap, look at me. Crying like a freakin' baby; _damn_…" hissed Nathan, cursing himself. He had lost it. Again; and in front of Lucas, even though he had sworn himself it would never happen, ever again. Great, he thought, as he angrily slammed his fists into the ground only to instantly feel pain shoot up his injured arm and curse even more. "Damn. Damn it! Fuck Dan, and Greg and Whitey, and—"

"Whoa, Nate! Relax, okay? Hurting yourself is not gonna help things, okay?" Nathan briefly glared at his older brother, who continued, "Come on, man, look at yourself: if you go on like that you're only ruining your arm more." Lucas glared back at his brother and found himself starting to feel annoyed, too. What was it about his brother that always made Luke's temper rise congruously to Nathan's? What was it that made Luke want to protect him from being hurt one second and kill him the next? Sighing, he allowed his head to rest against the wall and his gaze fell on Whitey's broad back that was barely visible from where he stood facing the two policemen that had arrived some five minutes or so earlier. Just then another snide remark from Nathan reached Lucas' ears.

"Yeah, thanks for the advice, Luke. Coz you're so good at following it yourself when it comes to your leg, right? I mean, walking around like that… I'm sure that's not why the doc put you in that thing, or was it?"

"Dude," Lucas warned. He was in no mood to fight, not against the kid who was sitting beside him now, still looking slightly shaken. But if Nathan continued to force it, Lucas would rise to the bait. He was no longer willing to suffer through any more of Nathan's fallbacks into old habits, including his previous jackass behavior toward Luke. "Leave it man," he therefore hissed angrily.

"What? Do you like being wheeled around in that chair so much that you wanna—"

"Dammit, Nathan! I said _leave it_!" Lucas angrily interrupted his brother's sneering, but Nathan merely rolled his eyes. That was the last straw for his brother. "Don't you dare talk to me like that!" he shouted. "I tried to help you! Should I have let Dan choke you? Is that what you wanted me to do? Huh?"

"I didn't need a friggin' cripple to help me! If you had given me more time—"

"If I had given you more time," Lucas shot back, "_you'd_ be the one lying on the ground now! And I don't know whether Dan would have stopped at merely making you _pass out_, Nate. I risked my damn health to protect you and all I get from you is a verbal slap in the face because I dared place the importance of your state of health over mine in one—apparently 'weak' moment? Well then, screw you, Nathan. I thought you were worth it, I thought we were finally starting to be and treat each other as actual brothers—"

"Lucas—"

"But obviously I was mistaken. You are _not_ worth it. Apparently Dan and you really do deserve each other after all! I'm sorry if I interrupted some father-son moment you were having back there. I won't do it again, I promise. If you think you can deal with him alone, then fine! But don't you come crying again about how horrible living with Dan is! Because, honestly? I no longer care! Let him choke you next time, I don't care! It'll probably even make my life easier!" The venomously spat words had already left his lips when Lucas realized what he had said. He got a brief glimpse of the younger one's face, saw the shutters close behind Nate's eyes before he turned away. Sighing, Lucas tried to get up, hardly realizing that his body was loudly protesting against the sudden movements. He cursed himself as a stifling silence pervaded the room. For a second Lucas thought his kid brother would walk over to where he was struggling to get up and would throttle him. But Nathan just remained standing there, still not looking at Luke.

-o0o-

"Nathan," the older Scott eventually began, focusing his stare on the floor instead of his brother. Had the situation been any different, he would have started wondering whether Dan had regained consciousness already. He would have been worried, whether the man was alright, just as he would have continued worrying whether Greg was doing alright. Right then, though, in this room with his brother, he couldn't really make himself worry about any of that. He didn't even wonder about the Coach's prolonged absence anymore, or the fact that the police hadn't started questioning him and Nate, yet. Too pressing was the sudden fear that he might have irrevocably destroyed something between him and Nate with that last outbreak of his. At the moment, Lucas wasn't even quite aware that he couldn't seem to make his legs cooperate underneath him, so intent was he on finding a way to take back what he had just said. "Nate. I'm—sorry, I shouldn't have… I—I didn't mean it like that…" He couldn't think of anything to say.

Quite unexpectedly, Nathan suddenly looked up and met his brother's gaze. The younger one was smiling. It was an eerie expression, Lucas couldn't help but think, and it made his skin crawl uncomfortably.

"Yeah, sure," said Nathan in a flat tone.

"Listen. Nate."

"No, you're right. I'm not."

"You… what?" Lucas whispered uncomprehendingly, struggling to get up and failing. Again. He flinched as this time his try didn't even cause the usual painful response in his leg.

"Worth it. It's what he says, too.—See, you two, you really aren't all that different than you think."

"_Dan_ said that?—Nathan, he and you…" Suddenly, a terrible sense of foreboding made Lucas swallow what he had been about to say. But he knew that it was now or never that he might be able to make Nathan talk about what was bothering him at home. He knew that he _had_ to make Nathan talk. Luke saw the younger one turn toward him then, felt Nate's gaze burn on his face, and eventually continued, "Nate, what Dan just did… is he like that often?" For a moment, Nathan simply stared at him in silence. His jaw muscles were moving, though, giving his tension away. Lucas just started thinking his brother wouldn't ever answer when Nate quietly said, "Define: _often_." He dropped his gaze then, staring hard at the ground. He looked so defeated all of a sudden, so startlingly vulnerable, so not like his usual jackass-self that Lucas felt that weird sense of affection return, affection for Nathan. It was still a new sensation, a feeling he had first experienced right after the crash. He bit his lips from the inside, unsure of how to continue, unsure even of whether Nathan really had implied what Lucas thought he had. Eventually, Luke settled on nodding and waiting whether Nathan chose to elaborate, which finally he did.

"I've told you before that you can have my damn life if you so desperately want it. You can have all of it; basketball, my ever-present, loving father—who wants me to live _his_ freakin' dream. My pill-addicted mother, my dead best friend. Take them all. I don't want them. I don't want any of this. Except for Haley nothing good has ever happened to me in the past I-don't-know-how-many years. It's just school, and basketball, and practice, and school, and then along comes one Lucas Scott who's got nothing better to do than steal the one thing from me I'm actually good at."

"Nate…," Lucas tried to butt in, but his brother spoke over him. "You think being neglected by Dan Scott is hard? You think living alone and in peace with a mother like yours is hard? God, how I wish my dad would 'neglect' _me_ a little more…"

"God, Nate, I didn't know—"

Nathan forced a laugh. "Yeah, you didn't. Just like most everyone else. Except for Tim—but he's dead, right?—And except for my mom, though she's pretty effective at making herself forget the bleakness of her life. Wish I could do the same. Hell, maybe I just should, who cares anyway, right?"

Lucas' shock was more than evident. "Don't say that, man!"

"What? Didn't you, too, just tell me how worthless I am? Huh, Lucas?—Crap, I'm so tired of it. I'm so tired of people telling me what a great big party my whole life is. Stupid people like you who don't know half of what they're even talking about."

"Nate, man…"

Suddenly Nathan allowed himself to fall into a sitting position right next to his brother, sighing as he came to sit. Resting his head against the cool concrete of the wall behind him, he stared into nothingness. Lucas glanced over at him then, studying his profile for a moment.

"I meant what I said at the beginning, Nate," Luke eventually whispered and noticed the younger one swallow. "This time it will be different. You're not going back to live with Dan, okay? Nor with Deb. Alright? Nate?"

He heard the kid snort. But other than that he remained silent, worrying Lucas with his sudden muteness. "Nate? Come on, man, talk to me. What do you want me to say? I'm sorry, okay? Seriously, I am. Crap, if only I had known that before… Dan is such a son of a bitch!" Lucas's rant continued on for another few minutes in which he alternately cursed himself and Dan, until finally he ran out of things to say. All throughout his monolog, Nathan had remained silent, merely sitting beside him, cradling his head in his hands, not once commenting on anything Lucas had said.

Finally, Lucas glanced over to his younger brother once again, and sighing he made one last attempt at getting a response from him. "You think we'll be alright?" he asked and was relieved to at least see Nathan smile sadly in answer, before he actually muttered, "Dude, we're Dan Scott's sons. How could we ever be 'alright?' Lucas snorted at that. "Yeah." A grin played across his lips briefly, and for a while both boys simply continued sitting there, neither of them breaking the silence that had again set in. Finally, Lucas once more tried to move his legs, flinching as, again, his injured leg refused its service, this time feeling like it was completely paralyzed.

"Luke?"

The blond boy rubbed his eyes with both palms and bit his lips. This was not good. It was not good.

"Luke."

Lucas eventually turned to face Nathan and found his brother eyeing him worriedly.

"Are you all right, man?"

"I…" Lucas felt his voice waver but couldn't stop it. "Crap, Nate. I don't think I can get up by myself."

"Okay, I'll help you," he heard Nathan answer, heard him get up beside him, the rustle of clothes and air curiously enhanced. Still, he couldn't pay attention to it, couldn't comprehend what was going on around him all of a sudden, He didn't really understand a word of what Nate was saying because all he could think of then was that he could no longer move his leg. He couldn't make his leg move, at all. Not an inch.

"No, I—God, I can't move my leg, I—I can't get it to move." He stared up to where Nathan suddenly towered over him, worry etched into his features as Lucas' face scrunched up in a mixture of fear and pain and desperation. "Oh God! Oh God…"

"Hey, man, don't worry. It's probably just—"

"I can't make it move, Nate, I can't—it's… I don't really feel anything but pain, it's—oh God…" He wasn't even aware that he was crying, didn't even have time to wonder from where the hell Whitey had suddenly appeared, because all he knew was that something was seriously wrong. "Nathan," he choked out, pleading with his brother. "Oh God, please help me. I—Nate…"

"It's okay, Luke." Nathan was frowning at him, though. He was frowning as he assured him that, "It's okay. You're okay…"

And then it was okay; he was okay. Because he felt himself leave the ground, and a calming noise of rushing blood filled his ears. The pain left his leg just as the frightening sense of lifelessness left it, too, when his whole body started to feel numb. He didn't feel a thing, not anymore.

Nathan, though, was only too aware of the painful grasp in which Lucas held his wrist and which made Nate's fingers start tingling uncomfortably. "You're okay," he forced out as he felt his older brother's stare on his face. "Lucas!" someone yelled then and Nathan lifted his gaze to find his brother's mom run to her son's side, and Brooke...

With Brooke's arrival, coldness eventually seeped into Nathan's hand and wrist for Lucas's hand had traveled on to be grabbed by both his girlfriend's tiny ones. The youngest Scott took it as his cue to stop in his tracks, to remain standing where he was, witnessing the goings-on from a safe distance; safe, just as usual, safe from any involvement in family matters.

Then he felt a small warm hand wiggle its way into his, and his fingers closed around it of their own accord.

Haley.

Looking down into her beautiful face he wanted to say anything but what he heard himself say to her then. "It's his leg, Hales. I think this time he really damaged it for good.—It's all my fault."

"No, Nathan."

"If he shouldn't be able to walk again, it'll only be because of me…" he whispered and added under his breath, 'It's not worth it, it's just not worth it. I'm not worth it…'

Haley could only stare up at him then, not sure she had heard him correctly. Right then, though, one of the police officers came up to where they stood. "Nathan Scott?" he said, and Haley involuntarily grabbed his hand yet a little tighter as he turned to face the officer. "I'm sorry, kid, but you'll have to answer a few questions before we can allow you to accompany your brother to the hospital."

"Sir," Haley suddenly shot at him, surprising herself with the firmness of her voice. "Can't this wait? As a matter of fact I think Nathan's arm needs some medical attending, too, so…"

"Haley is right," she suddenly heard someone chime in behind her and was surprised to find Nathan's uncle walk toward them. Placing a hand on his nephew's shoulder and smiling kindly at the kid, Keith addressed the policeman again. "Let me accompany my nephew to a doctor first and I'll assure you, Sir, we'll answer all your questions as soon as a doctor has checked on him. Is that okay with you?"

And finally, the officer nodded his consent. "Alright. But you'll be coming with me. Don't mind me saying this, but I've heard about the infamous Scott clan after all, Sir…"

Keith grinned. "So who can blame you for taking a few precautions, I understand. Well, let's go then. Haley, Nate?—Nathan?"

"Huh?"

"Come on, kiddo, let's get you to a doctor, okay?"

"I'm okay, Uncle Keith…"

"Right you are…," Keith made, furrowing his brow as he noticed the absent look on his brother's younger son. Once again, he found himself having to see his two nephews to the hospital. All that within the span of only a couple of weeks. Something surely had to change, he thought, and soon…


	19. 19

-o0o-

"Mrs. Scott, I know the prospects look bleak at most. After the surgery tomorrow afternoon, I'll probably be able to tell you more, though. Until then I suggest you go home and wait. You cannot really do anything for Lucas now anyway. We will simply have to wait how the surgery goes. Afterward, things might already look a little more promising. Besides, of one thing I am sure, even now. Lucas will still be able to walk again. It'll just take him longer now, and we don't know about how well he will be able to use his injured leg. But he will walk again, Mrs. Scott, alright? Mrs. Scott—"

"Roe, it's Roe. Ms. Roe actually," Karen heard herself say. As if that information was of any real importance. But the doctor, a nice woman if maybe a bit young, smiled at her sympathetically before apologizing and continuing with her explanation of what she was about to do with Lucas. Finally, she came to an end.

"Karen felt exhausted, and yet there were more things to come, decisions to be made. She was sure of that. For now, though, she couldn't do anything but wait.

"Ms. Roe?"

Startled, Karen looked up at the woman sitting opposite her and frowned. "Excuse me?" she asked, bewilderment showing on her face.

"I asked you whether you still have any questions, concerning your son's injury or the follow-up surgery tomorrow?"

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't—I wasn't… I wasn't paying attention, Dr. Harmon, I'm very sorry, I should—" Eventually, the young doctor took pity on Karen and stopped her from stuttering out more random apologies by saying, "Don't worry about it, Ms. Roe, I understand. Your son being injured, it's a hard time for you, too, isn't it?"

Suddenly, a heartfelt laugh tore its way out of Karen's mouth. She couldn't help it. "A hard time?" she repeated. "You have no idea. Lucas—I thought he would die, when he had that accident… I thought he would die. If it hadn't been for Keith's help, I don't know how I would have survived that time. Coming here every day, begging for him to wake up, and when he finally did he was in so much pain. All the time.—Wouldn't you think someone who survived all that would be a little more careful in the future and would stay away from any sort of fight, anything endangering his fragile health? But no." Karen hadn't realized she was crying until she felt herself choke out an actual sob. From there, it only went downhill. She could no longer shoulder it all, the constant worry, the rising amount of money she had had to put into restoring Lucas's health, and now this. Another surgery was to come, and this young woman, this nice doctor couldn't even assure her that Lucas would ever be able to walk without the help of crutches again—not to mention play basketball. He had made such great progress, she had begun to finally see light at the end of the tunnel. She had been so hopeful that he would be out of the wheelchair in only a few more weeks, that he might even be fit enough to play basketball right at the start of the next season. Now, though, that seemed like the last thing to happen. The last thing. She wanted to be mad at Lucas, because he had been so careless, because what had happened to him today had been nothing but his own fault. Yet when she thought back to the moment the doctor had told them both about the surgery, about how they had to reopen the wound and stabilize the bone from the inside this time, she could only feel sympathy. The devastated look on Luke's face, being told that there wouldn't be any leaving the wheelchair anytime soon this time around, it had broken her heart. He had looked at her and he had looked like that young boy again who was told he couldn't continue playing in Little League since his Dad had taken over the post of Coach for the team and had made it very clear that he didn't want Lucas to stay on the team. His eyes had begged her to make it all good again, make it all go away.

She had had to disappoint him, just like when he was a small child, crying in her arms, begging her to be allowed back on the team, back with his friends. She had disappointed him, had left him lying in that hospital bed, no words of comfort left.

-o0o-

Lucas had turned his face away from Brooke and she knew. She knew it had been he to say he might just as well end his life. It had been Lucas.

"No," she whispered, staring hard at him, waiting until finally he dared peek up into her face again. His eyes, too, were shiny with tears as he began to say, "Brooke, I—"

"No, Lucas, no." Raising an arm in defense she stepped a few feet away. She didn't want to hear anything. There he had saved her only this afternoon. He had saved her because they loved each other, didn't they? They would do anything for each other—she would do anything for him. After that traffic accident she had spent her time waiting at his side, waiting for him to wake up, to get better. She had swallowed down her previous anger at him. It was no more than a bad memory now, one among many. She had stored it away, she had stored the whole awful beach party away in some dark corner of her brain. But suddenly, it all came flooding back to the forefront. Suddenly, all those vivid images flooded her brain and she could only stare at Lucas disappointedly and sad.

"Brooke?" This time it was Haley who addressed her, a look of concern marring her features. She stepped closer to where her friend stood, suppressing the urge to walk over to where Nathan was standing, also looking more than a little lost. Brooke, though, seemed to be the one worse off. Haley frowned at her three friends and felt strangely left out. She had no idea what exactly was the cause for their shared distress for she had only just arrived and whatever had made all of them so upset, someone had said it before she had arrived at Brooke's side.

"Brooke?" she tried again. For lack of a better place she placed the two steaming cups of coffee she was still holding on the little desk beside Luke's bed and gently grabbed the other girl's arm. "What is it?" Brooke looked at her with a lost and heartbroken expression which made Haley's throat go tight with a sudden feeling of dread. What could any one of them have said that had upset the cheerleader so terribly. To Haley's worry, she was even starting to sob for real then. Putting her arms around her in an attempt to comfort her, she queried, "Oh Brooke, sweetie, what—what is it? What—Oh God, is any one of you guys going to tell me what the hell happened?" She looked to the two brothers then, both of which were suddenly staring quite intently anywhere but at her, though she heard Nathan whisper out a barely audible, "Go ask your best friend here…"

Suddenly, Brooke disentangled herself from Haley's embrace and faced her. Dark smudges stained her pretty face, yet she didn't bother to wipe at them, or wipe away the tears running down her flushed cheeks. "He's right. Go ask your best friend!" Turning to look at Lucas, she then added, "Ask him if he ever thought of any one of us when he told Nathan he might just as well end his life—"

"Crap, Brooke, I'm sorry, I was—I didn't—" Lucas tried to butt in, but she ignored him. Haley, though, shot him a glance that told him how shocked she was to hear about his words.

"Ask him if he considered the consequences, for either of us? Ask him if he doesn't know that I love him too much to bear losing him! Ask him! Ask him whether he really thinks being able to walk is more important than having people who need you and love you. Ask him whether he knows what him even considering suicide does to us, to his friends… to…"

"Brooke, please."

"To his brother, to his mom. It would kill your mom, Lucas! It would kill me! Oh God, how can you even say something like that?"

"Brooke! I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't thinking, I was…," Helplessly, Lucas looked from her to Haley, to Nathan, who didn't return his gaze, and back to Brooke. He hadn't thought anyone except for Nate would hear his words. He hadn't really thought at all. Lucas ran both his hands over his face and sighed heavily. He couldn't deal with this now. He couldn't deal with other people's sorrows, not on top of everything else. Not on top of knowing that basketball would probably forever be out of the question after the new surgery he'd have to undergo the next day. Not on top of knowing that that additional surgery could financially ruin his mom, might force her to sell her beloved café, and that he alone was to blame this time. It all was nothing but his fault. And yet, he hadn't really meant those words. Or had he? Lucas flinched as he realized that maybe, just maybe, there was a part of him that had meant what he had said. A part of him had wanted this whole mess to end, the pain, the feeling to have caused too many people too much distress. He wanted to stop having to worry about his mom, and money, and taking all joy out of Brooke's life, and being responsible for her having lost her carefree, happy attitude. He wanted to stop worrying about his future and picturing himself in a wheelchair for years to come. He wanted the fear to be over, and yes, he even wanted to get rid of that still new feeling of being in some screwed sense responsible for Nathan's well-being. He wanted to stop picturing what Dan did to him, wanted to stop feeling like _he_ was making things even worse for Nate.

For all he wanted to do was live, for goodness' sake, he wanted to live and be with Brooke, make love to her again. He wanted to sit with Haley in his mom's café, laughing with her. He wanted to see his mom smile again, and he wanted to finally, finally get along with Nathan more than a mere few hours on end. He wanted Dan out of their lives and just be brothers with Nate, brothers who would hang out and have fun together and eventually find other things to talk about and share than that horrible traffic accident experience…

Eventually Lucas noticed that he was sobbing real hard. His shoulders were shaking and he cursed himself for being such a wreck. It was only when he felt Brooke climb into bed beside him and snuggle up to him, that he finally realized that he might have accidentally said all those things out loud. He couldn't deal with that now, either. He couldn't, and so he simply allowed himself to be held by his girlfriend and listen to assure him that it was alright. Everything was gonna be okay, and—much later—hear her whisper very gently into his ear, "Who says there aren't ways for us to make love now, Lucas Scott?"

He looked up at her then, finally able to smile a small smile again.

-o0o-

Haley and Nathan had left Luke's hospital room a while back to give Brooke and Lucas some privacy. Unsure of what to say or where to go, Nathan found himself standing somewhat lost in the middle of the hallway. He had just decided that it was time for him to get the hell out of that awful place, when Keith suddenly materialized in front of him and Haley.

"There you are!" he called out, sounding curiously exasperated, why, though, Nathan had absolutely no idea. Tiredly, he rubbed his temple absently and fixed his gaze somewhere to the side of his uncle's face. "Uncle Keith," he muttered in acknowledgment, still refusing to look the man in the eyes. He wanted to go home. After that scene with Lucas tearing up like that and saying all those things… Nathan simply felt too tired to deal with anymore such family crap. Haley's unobtrusive presence was all the company he felt capable of coping with now. Keith, though?

"Nathan! I was looking for you, kid! Why the hell is it that Dr. Harmon has to ask Karen of all people, where you might have disappeared to before she had the chance to take a good look at that arm of yours?—Aw, not to mention that nasty bruise on that there temple. Oh, boy, that looks like you got some pretty bad blows to your head."

"I'm fine, Keith," Nathan bit out, flinching away as Keith made to take a closer look at his nephew's discolored face.

"You what?" Haley stared up at him and he couldn't help but think it was unfair how there were two of them now whose unwanted attention he had to fend off. "Gosh, Keith, I thought he was—if I had known you jerk haven't even been in to see a doctor about this, I would have never let you walk around like that!" Haley chided him and he had to smile at her sudden exasperation. "Oh?" he made, his grin broadening, "Since when are we two having a relationship in which you 'make' me do anything besides my homework and other such tutoring stuff?"

"I… it's not, I, of course we are not having any… we," when Haley couldn't think of any real comeback she settled on huffing at him, crossing her arms in front of her and glaring at him. Nathan instinctively bent down to place a light kiss on her forehead in answer, only becoming aware of what he was doing when the vanilla flavor of her shampoo hit his senses and made something stir in him strangely.

"Yeah, yeah. Well, no time for any romantic definitions of your relationship now," Keith butted in, thankfully saving both Nathan and Haley from any possible moment of awkwardness. "Let's get you to the Doc now, Nate." Keith grabbed his younger nephew by the shoulder and made to stir him away with him. Instantly, though, Nathan felt his defenses rise again and shoved Keith away, staring at him somewhat angrily. "Don't touch me. And I don't think I have to do anything you say. You're _not_ my dad!"

Keith's face clouded over in reaction and Nathan cursed inwardly at himself for his stupid slipup. He prepared himself for a few hard words and whatever else was to come. Therefore he was slightly taken aback when his uncle's features softened rather quickly after only a few seconds and he softly said, "No, I'm not. And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you—"

"I. Was. Not. Scared."

"Nate, it's no shame to admit, I'm sure a man like Dan is sometimes a—"

"I said I wasn't scared! So shut the hell up already and let's go to that friggin' doctor for God's sakes! If that's so friggin' important to you!" With that said, Nathan stormed off as if he had any idea of where he was going. He didn't see Keith and Haley exchange a worried look, just as he didn't hear Haley address Keith in a confidential whisper. "You _do_ know that Dan, that he—I think he beats Nathan up, Keith..."

For a second Keith could only stare at her. Suddenly, a scene of the past came to him, vivid in its details. He could even see himself clean his hands before picking up the receiver of his phone…

-o0o-

_When the phone rang, Keith was astonished to hear that it was his nephew calling him; astonished, because it was not Lucas—who was calling him all the time anyway—but because it was Nathan. Nate and he, though, they didn't exactly do telephone conversations. They didn't even do real conversations all that much._

"_Nathan, son. How goes it?"_

"_Um, sorry to bother you, Uncle Keith, but I was wondering…"_

_When the boy didn't seem to make any move to complete his sentence, Keith settled on gently prodding him. "Aw, you never bother me, Nate. Just spill it out, what can I do for you?"_

"_I was… I know you probably wouldn't even want to or have room for it, or, you know…"_

"_Ask ahead, kiddo, as you're saying, I can't say anything worse than no, right? So why don't you let me hear what this is about and we'll see? That sound good?"_

"_Um, alright, I… could you ask Dad that you need my help in the shop or something this summer break?"_

_Keith was a little startled at the sudden rush of words, not so much because of the speed with which he had gotten them out but because of what he had actually said. He wanted to spend the summer over at Keith's place? The whole summer? No basketball, no girls waiting for him, no… nothing?"_

_A little flustered, his first reaction hence was, "You not going to some basketball training camp this summer? I thought Dan was so intent on helping you—"_

"_Yeah! Um, never mind. It was just some stupid idea. Pretend I never asked you, okay? Bye, Uncle Keith—"_

"_Whoa, wait, Nate! It's not—it's not that I wouldn't want you here or that I couldn't really use some help over the summer. It's just… you would have to share a room with your brother since he is coming here, too…"_

"_Ah, well. Never mind. As I said, stupid idea. Thanks anyway."_

"_Wait. Nathan…," Keith stalled. It was so very unfortunate how those two simply didn't get along—or wouldn't—because Dan was a stupid sonofabitch who had screwed his favored younger son over something bad. Keith'd always tried to help out there, had tried to ease things between the kids, but at some time even he had been tired of it and given up. Still, something bothered him about Nate's call out of the blue and he did want to give the whole thing a new try if only because Nathan would have never called him if there wasn't something odd going on. "Maybe," he therefore began, but "Nah," Nathan quickly said. "That's alright."_

"_Next summer maybe?"_

"_Yeah, sure. Thanks, Keith. Take care."_

"_You take care, kiddo, you take care…"_

Keith suddenly remembered that incident with the phone call, and Nathan's uncharacteristic wish to spend the summer doing anything other than playing ball, taking every chance he got at getting even better at it, further improving his skills.

He should have known something was very off about that. He should have known. But he hadn't.

-o0o-

It hadn't been Keith who had found out the truth that summer. Keith couldn't have known any of what happened that summer. He wasn't the one to get worried when Nathan didn't show up at his place for a party they had planned. He didn't walk over to the Scott's house and broke into it when no one answered the door for way on too long although he knew Nate had to be home. He wasn't the one to call Nathan's name repeatedly, teasingly at first, making fun of the situation, coming up with ever more stupid reasons for him not to have shown up. Keith wasn't the one to fall silent eventually. He wasn't the one who started feeling creepy, uncomfortable.

It hadn't been him who eventually found Nathan in the kitchen, half leaning against the fridge, half lying on the floor, holding a freakin' fork in his fist. He hadn't been the one who couldn't make the kid loosen his grip on that piece of silverware even when he was told there was no one there except for them. No, Keith hadn't been the one who sat down on his hunches right in front of Nate and talked in an endless stream of words. He hadn't been the one to note the blood on the fork's sharp ends. He hadn't been the one to see the choke marks on Nathan's throat, or the blood on his face, the marks on his back, where he had been shoved against the board of a shelf repeatedly. It hadn't been Keith.

It had been Tim. Tim Smith, best friend of Nathan Scott.

And when finally he had gotten his best friend to show some signs of actual life again, when Nathan had emerged back from being nothing but a deeply traumatized, unresponsive kid, Tim had done what his best friend had asked of him. He had kept silent. He hadn't called the cops, or an ambulance, or even someone of the Scott family—not even Nathan's uncle, though that thought had continued to cross his mind occasionally…

…until the day Tim died, and with him any witness to what that one summer had been like for Nathan, that one summer when his mother hadn't been around.

-o0o-


	20. 20

-o0o-

Two months later, and nothing much had changed, except for the fact that Lucas had finally been released out of the hospital for a second time that year. It didn't feel quite so thrilling this time, though, Lucas thought as he routinely hoisted himself out of his bed and into the waiting wheelchair—his constant companion these days.

He was so practiced in using it, in doing basically everything in it that in his brighter moments he figured life really could go on even if he'd forever completely rely on it. In his darker moments, though, the ones he had to try and hide from his mom, his friends, and especially from Brooke, who was so careful to always be upbeat and chipper around him—in those very private dark moments, he cursed his bad luck that had landed him in a wheelchair, ruining his life as he knew it.

He cursed himself for having conceded to driving Nathan home all those weeks ago. He cursed Nathan for having been so wasted that it had been necessary in the first place. He cursed Haley, for having begged him with that trade mark pleading look of hers that always got to his very best friend-core.

But more than anything, he had—weirdly—gone on to blame Dan Scott for everything that had happened. Yes, now that he was looking at himself in the mirror of his bathroom, trying for the umpteenth time to detect any resemblance between the face staring back at him and that of his hated father, he wondered how things might have worked out if Dan Scott had been a better man, a better dad.

"Luke, baby, your personal taxi just arrived!" a voice piped up and jolted him out of his musings. He couldn't help a small smile passing across his features that nonetheless remained set in a slight frown even then.

The door to his bathroom was opened from the outside just as he was about to open it himself, and the pretty face of his girlfriend popped in.

"You were not brooding in there again, Lucas Scott, were you?" she scolded, playfully poking an accusing finger into his chest and shaking her head. "No brooding allowed today, remember? It's a very special person's birthday today after all. And she made it very clear that she had only two wishes for that day," Brooke went on, grinning brightly, as she gently lowered herself onto his lap, wrapping her arms around him. "Number one: no brooding." He smirked, before he caught Brooke's lips in a kiss. His hands began traveling underneath her blouse, his broody thoughts already forgotten as he managed to rasp out between kisses, "And number two?"

Before Brooke could answer, he began wheeling both of them out of the bathroom. She stopped their movement by grabbing the doorframe firmly. Getting up she smiled down at him, shaking her head. Luke saw the light catch in her eyes, making them sparkle even more mischievously. "Nuh-uh," she breathed, and with a surprisingly quick and lithe movement she straddled him. She kissed him again, with a force he reciprocated instantly, his passion already getting the better of him even before he was even fully aware of what Brooke's fingers were starting to do farther down...

"Number two is this here, naughty boy," said Brooke, already slightly panting by the time she managed to add, "Wheelchair sex…"

"Um… unh… happy birthday…"

Lucas wasn't able to finish his sentence…

-o0o-

Peyton was angry. She knew she shouldn't be; it was Brooke's birthday and all. Yet, her best friend had promised to give her a ride to school since Peyton's car had suffered that stupid punctured tire the other day.

But no, apparently B. Davis wasn't merely running late. She didn't even answer her freakin' phone so that Peyton had decided to do the unthinkable and walk to school. Granted, it was a long ways away. Very long; but ever since she had set eyes on the crew of geeks and freaks in the school bus, she had decided for herself that yes, maybe she was weird for a cheerleader, but not _that_ weird.

She had tried to get someone else to pick her up of course. But what was it with that cursed day that each and every one of her friends seemed to be too busy doing something else instead of answering her call? She had tried Lucas first. Well, what was she thinking, right? Peyton sure had an idea why he didn't answer his phone…

She had tried Haley—and would never forget Haley's genuinely bewildered reply. "I'm sorry, Peyton, but didn't you know that I also have tutoring lessons before classes start? I'm already at school…" Peyton frowned at the mere thought. _Before_ school? Those were definitely not tutoring lessons with Nate, although, strangely he, too, hadn't picked up his phone. He usually did when she called, well, ever since she was no longer his girlfriend anyway. But she could ask him about that later. If he would be a little less tense than he had been the last couple of days, kind of like back when he and she had still been dating and Haley hadn't yet been an issue…

Finally, after the third idiot honked at her without offering her a ride, she was just dialing Skills's number, when a car pulled up right by her side. She didn't know to who it belonged and at first couldn't even see the driver. Then, he opened the door to the passenger side for her and she inclined her head a little to see who it was.

"Need a ride?" he asked, smiling at her, and she couldn't help but frown in confusion. Why was that guy offering her a ride? Was he even sincere about it, or was this some kind of ruse he and his freakin' friend had planned to get back at her and her friends?

"Paul, is it?"

"Yeah," he said.

"As in, Greg's—the-freakin'-psycho-who-got-my-friends-in-trouble—that Greg's friend Paul?—No, thanks. I think, I'll rather walk." And with that said, she did walk away. Still, she saw how he sucked in a heavy breath and winced as if her words had truly gotten to him.

Sure enough, he wasn't one to give up so quickly. He got his car in gear and not a minute later she found him drive right beside her again, like the poor rejected guy in some stupid 1950's movie. Peyton wouldn't have been surprised if the music issuing out of his car had been some rockabilly tune or other. But it wasn't; _The Flaming Lips_, she noticed and quickly lowered her head so that he wouldn't see her smile.

"Greg is an ass, I get it," Paul admitted, startling her. "I mean, he didn't used to be…," his voice trailed off. Peyton was irked to find herself feel curiously sorry for the guy. And why was that anyway?

"I mean, I know that, okay? Though I don't understand how the guy I know—knew, could ever lose it so badly over being rejected by that friend of yours, Brooke, right? But, see, I'm not him, alright? I'm not Greg; I'm not gonna try and hit on you or anything and then get out of control if you reject me… um, okay, so maybe I already am, hitting on you I mean. But I could… oh God, please someone make me stop rambling…"

The guy was looking at Peyton so helplessly that she finally took pity on him. "Alright," she blurted out, nearly laughing now. "Alright. Will you just shut up and take me to school already? Geez, what is it with you guys and the art of talking, huh? Usually you're all quiet, but once you do start you can't seem to stop again."

Paul managed a lopsided grin at that and earned a heartfelt laughter from the blonde. She had definitely intimidated this one…

-o0o-

"Please, Luke," Haley was practically begging and Lucas had the weird feeling of an ill-boding déjà vu. "Can you do that for me?"

"Haley," he whined. Though unable to look at her since she was wheeling him to their next class, he knew what look he would have seen on her face. He made a weak attempt to brake, but she ignored it. Too set was she on making him do her this favor. "It's Brooke's birthday," he tried, fondly remembering how Brooke and he had started celebrating it early that morning. Too bad she wasn't there with them now. She would have been more than strong enough to keep him from doing Haley the favor. Lucas already knew he would not be strong enough for that. Already he saw himself doing what she was asking of him. He'd do anything for her, no matter what. Oh Brooke, he thought, as a very unwelcome image of his girlfriend accusingly glaring down at him made his skin prickle uncomfortably.

"I told you I wanted to take Brooke out after school and after all that she's done for me, after all we've been through—"

"I know it's her birthday, Lucas," Haley interrupted him. Suddenly it was she who stopped in her tracks. Rounding his wheelchair, she got down on her knees in front of him in that fashion that made him cringe if anyone other than she did it. Trying to be at eyelevel with the guy in the wheelchair…

"Well, then can't you ask someone else to do it? Like, I don't know, Peyton?"

"Seriously, Luke?"

"Yeah, why? What's wrong with Peyton?"

She huffed angrily, apparently annoyed by how dense he was. "I'd rather go myself than send his ex-girlfriend over there."

It didn't take him long to get that Haley was jealous. He sighed. Brooke would be so disappointed; worse, she would be livid. Nathan had failed to show up for school, on a game Friday. It would be only his second game back on the team and Haley was worried. He got that. The guy had obviously failed to return any calls ever since he and Haley had had a major fight the other night—a fight that, according to her had come completely out of the blue, with him accusing her of treating him like some nutcase whose dad had screwed him over something bad. Admittedly Lucas could see the truth behind that accusation, but he'd shut up about it when Haley told him everything.

After the fight she was obviously reluctant to face her boyfriend. Lucas still didn't think it was his place to step in, though. If Nathan decided to be stupid about it and risk being thrown from the team, so be it. He didn't want to confront his brother about that and risk a fight that would only destroy the progress their slowly developing brotherly relationship had made.

"Well, then why don't you? Drive over there yourself, I mean," he therefore said, trying to steal his way out of it.

"Gosh, Lucas, you're such a…"

"What, Hales? Huh? So you really want me to go over there and see what's keeping Nate—your boyfriend, might I add—from showing up? On Brooke—my girlfriend's!—birthday?"

"But he's your brother…"

"I know he is! Haley." Lucas was getting strangely agitated. Gripping the wheels of his chair in a tight grasp, he wheeled around a little to face her more fully. Her head had drooped and he knew she was close to crying, when he extended a hand to cup her chin. Luckily, not many kids were walking the hallways at the time or they might have been the center of everyone's attention again, like too often in the last couple of months.

"Hales. Haley. Listen, you know Nate and I are trying to get the whole brother-thing under way slowly, right?" He rather felt than saw her nod and took it as his cue to continue. "I don't wanna jeopardize that by butting in when the two of you were having a fight, not when Nate is back with Dan and Deb, and… I just need him to trust me, okay?"

Again, she nodded, this time facing him. Her eyes were brimming with tears, but she was trying hard to keep herself composed. It pained Lucas to see her like that. She looked—frightened. Somewhere in the back of his head it registered with him that she was only mirroring his own expression.

-o0o-

_He glared at the man. Of course, just like in some cheap novel the man simply stared back at him. Don't ever force the patient.. Things had come so far that Lucas Scott, son of Karen Roe, had been assigned an appointment with a shrink. Great. And all that because he had been stupid enough to let that one sentence slip…_

My life sucks. I could just as well end it now and no one would think it a loss—

_He didn't even think he was feeling like that anymore. At least that's what he was trying so hard to make himself believe. If he only continued to tell himself it was true, wouldn't it eventually become true? He was angry. Angry at himself, angry at everyone, and about everything. He didn't need a shrink to tell him it was okay to be angry, or understandable, or whatever the hell else shrinks told you these days._

_He just needed it to stop. The pain, the desperation, the feeling that he couldn't change anything. The feeling that he was responsible for everything that went wrong in the lives of others._

_Without himself even knowing where it came from, he suddenly blurted out, "You know what I said was a spur of the moment thing, right? I mean, I know why you're here, and I understand it. You have to be thorough about such things I guess."_

_When he didn't continue, the man, Dr. Everard, gently prodded, "What things, Lucas?"_

"_Teenagers uttering suicide thoughts," he said bluntly. He wasn't here to kid around, and neither was the doctor. "Listen. I know it was an ungrateful thing to say, especially after surviving a car accident in which others died—and don't give me that look. I'm not having survivor's guilt. I'm not!"_

"_Okay."_

"_Anyways. I appreciate your being here and everything. But I'm a survivor, alright? Nothing to worry about. Besides, as a matter of fact I promised my brother something and in order to keep that promise I will have to stay around for a little while longer."_

"_What promise did you make?"_

_Lucas smiled but didn't say anything._

_What promise did I make? That it would be different, he thought. _

_He wouldn't tell that man that things were already different. Whitey had seen to that with his false statement about Dan having beaten Greg into a pulp. This time, Dan would surely have to remain in prison for a little while longer than last time around. Lucas was sure of that._

_He was sure Nathan would be okay now…_

"_Lucas?"_

_Besides, Keith had offered Nathan to stay at his place. His brother would never have to go back to his old home. He would be okay, even if Lucas was not around to make sure of that; there were others who would._

"_Well, Lucas, if you're not going to tell me about it, let _me_ tell you a few things, alright?" He looked over at Lucas, who returned his gaze defiantly. He would have liked to just walk out on the psychiatrist, but what with his current situation, it was not an option. And whose fault was that? Exactly._

"_Let me tell you something and afterward, you are free to decide whether I should go and stay gone, or whether you would like to see me again. Deal?"_

"_Deal." Lucas sat up in his bed as much as his leg allowed for it and watched Everard as he began to speak._

"_You and your previously estranged half-brother have been in a very traumatizing car accident together. You have been severely injured. You have lost some friends in the accident. During your first stay in the hospital you have had to endure severe abuse by a parent that you have not grown up with. But your brother has grown up with him, with your father, I take it?"_

_Lucas found himself nodding a confirmation without thinking about it._

"_Your basketball coach has confirmed that said father has beaten up a kid at your school seriously enough to land the guy, Greg Anders, in the hospital, where he is currently treated for more than just a broken nose. The boy suffered some severe head injuries…" There, the doctor stopped for a moment, eyeing Lucas warily, making him feel caught red-handed._

"_Coach Durham also stated that your father then went on to attack his own sons… who were still not quite healed from the accident. The thing is, the police found traces of the kid's blood on yours and Nathan's hands, but not on Dan Scott's. Can you explain that to me? And can you explain to me why Nathan would have willingly conceded to living with his mom and dad again if anything the coach said about that night was true?"_

_Lucas's eyes widened at those words but he didn't make a sound. He wouldn't say anything to the man opposite him, because surely he was only telling him lies about Dan and Nathan to make him talk. No way would Nathan live with Dan and Deb again. No way could it be true that Dan didn't have to go to prison._

"_And can you explain to me why you did everything to ruin your leg when seemingly nothing happened that warranted you getting out of your wheelchair in the first place?" The doctor sighed, waiting a full minute for Lucas to reply to anything he had said, but facing a wall. _

"_You and your brother are survivors."_

_Finally, Lucas felt more than a little annoyed with the man. How dare he poke his finger into the wound like that? Just to make him talk? Did he really think that way Lucas would feel the urge to open up about anything? "You said that already," he eventually hissed. His glare darkened as the doctor's features softened in some anticlimactic reaction._

"_Oh? And when did I say that?" he quietly asked. It was then that Lucas started reeling._

"_You… you said it," he weakly repeated. He wasn't sure when, though. He couldn't pinpoint the time in their 'conversation' at all._

"_Wasn't it actually you who said something about surviving, Lucas, about being a survivor?—Did you know that the victims of domestic violence frequently do refer to themselves as survivors as well?"_

"_I never suffered from domestic violence."_

"_Who said I was referring to _you_?"_

_Lucas's head shot up at that, something in the doctor's tone making him feel wary, setting him on edge._

"_Well, Lucas, it was nice talking to you. It really was. Let me just add one more thing and if you so wish you will be rid of me for the rest of your life."_

"_Go ahead," Lucas said, though Everard had quite obviously not been waiting for a permission to speak. _

"_Can you honestly tell me that all of what's been happening has nothing to do with you suffering from survivor's guilt? Getting yourself in trouble, being present when a boy is beaten a hair's breadth from his death, needlessly shredding your injured leg in an attempt to do what exactly? Suddenly looking for an actual relationship with a brother you previously seemed to have hated? —This is nothing to do with survivor's guilt, no?—And, Lucas, I am not merely talking about surviving the car accident here…"_

-o0o-

Haley held onto Lucas's arms like her life depended on him. "Please, Luke."

"Hales. I would, okay, really, I would. You know that. But the whole point about Nate and I taking it slowly is the fact that he feels cornered way too easily, not to mention his trust issues, and I need him to trust me when I want to be sure he would tell me if anything was wrong at home," Lucas said and realized that he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else that that was his only reason why he was so reluctant to go. In truth, he simply couldn't force the memories of the night of the accident out of his mind. Haley had pleaded with him exactly like she was doing now, and it had all been because of Nathan.

He knew it was stupid, unreasonable, superstitious even, to think that him going over to the Scott home would result in just another terrible mess.

"Lucas, don't you get it? This is not just about me and Nathan, okay? Yes, I was trying to make myself believe that it was. But not one day goes by that I don't worry for him living in that house. I know Keith managed to get Dan to attend that anger management class. I know that Nathan says Dan and Deb are really making an effort, but I… I just have this bad gut feeling, Luke. Something _has_ to be wrong if he doesn't show up on a game Friday. And it's not because we had that stupid argument. That was probably already a first sign. I should have known then that something was off…"

"I know, Hales," sighed Lucas, running a hand through his hair. He started to feel desperate. On the one hand, he wanted to spend the day with Brooke. Only yesterday had he told the Doc about his great plans for the day, treating Brooke to a nice lunch, afterward taking her to the little cottage by the sea he had rented for the weekend.

He wanted that for her and himself, he wanted it so badly. And the Doc, too, had thought it a good idea. For the first time since Lucas had started seeing him, Everard had actually encouraged him in his enthusiasm, probably rightly noticing that for the first time, Luke hadn't faked it.

He didn't want to be dragged back down. But here was Haley, with every word confirming his dark premonition. He knew he would feel guilty if he didn't go and check on his brother. After all, he had promised him something and was determined to keep that promise. He was determined, even if Nate was currently trying to pretend like he was fine with living with Dan and Deb, something neither Lucas, his mom, Keith, anyone could have prevented, ever since the police had been able to prove that the first part of Whitey's statement had been a lie.

It had been so easy for Dan's lawyers to make it look like all the other accusations, past and present, had been accusations as well.

Lucas dreaded having to have to meet Nate one on one because of that. He dreaded having to face him with the truth standing between them, like the proverbial elephant, and them not mentioning it. Or, maybe even worse, what if they did mention it? It was one of the reasons why so far, the two of them had so successfully avoided having to spend some actual time alone with each other.

Scenes of that day on the beach flashed through his mind.

"Do it for me, Luke. Please. I'm not asking you to blow off whatever you've planned for Brooke, okay? It won't take much longer than half an hour at most, I'm sure. Just drive by, prove me wrong. Make sure that he is only mad at me and the world, and you can be here again in time to take Brooke out to lunch.—I wouldn't ask you if I…"

Sighing, he bent forward just enough to give her a hug. "I know," he whispered, resting his chin on the crown of her hair. "I'll go."

-o0o-

Nathan didn't know what time it was when he opened his eyes to the glaring lights of his bathroom. For a second he didn't even know where he was, or what he was doing there.

Until he remembered.

Slowly, he got up from where he had rested with his head against the bathtub. All the while he was holding onto the tiled surface for support. Wow, he thought. So here they were at it again, Dan and him. He dragged himself over to the sink and winced as he tried to prop himself up with both his hands. Looking down, he noticed blood running down his fingers, coming from somewhere up his arm. Great, just what he had needed. At least it was the other arm this time, he thought, choking down a miserable laugh. Not the one he had injured back in that friggin' accident.

He sighed as he began washing away the blood. He could really use some Advil, too. Then again, the Coach would probably rip his head off for failing to come to classes on a game Friday, anyway. It was kinda funny, come to think of it, that Dan—who cared so much more for him excelling at basketball than Nate himself did—had apparently not taken that into account when he had made his son practice well on into the night. Well, apparently Dan had not still been around to see Nate collapse in the middle of his bathroom, or he might actually have tried something to get him back in shape for the school day.

Not that Nate cared.

Apparently he had managed to fall straight onto that loose cracked tile the plumber had broken last week. Why couldn't he have passed out on his bed anyway? He couldn't even remember what had made him go to the bathroom instead of straight to bed. In fact, he didn't even remember getting inside the house after hours and hours of practicing.

It took him a while to clean the mess up, long enough to be grateful that Dan hadn't been there in the morning to find him and make him go to school. Unfortunately also long enough to still be in the house when he heard his father coming home from work early, probably getting ready for the game tonight.

Nate decided to make a dash out of the door once he heard his father taking his shower, but soon found that he was out of luck in that regard as well.

"Nathan. What are you doing at home? Don't you have classes?"

"Yeah, I…was just on my way back."

Dan shot his son a skeptical look. "Back, huh?"

"No Calculus today, so I figured I'd go home for a brief… you know…;" Dang, Nathan could curse himself and his too slow mind sometimes. He didn't used to be this bad at lying to Dan.

"You weren't thinking of skipping a day of school—on a game Friday, were you, son?"

"No Dad. I just thought I'd go home for lunch today. That's all."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No Dad, I'm not lying.—I don't have time for this now, I really gotta go."

"Is that so?"

"Seriously Dad, cut me some slack, okay? You had me practicing the whole friggin' night, I'm tired. And I have to be there in time for the game, which I hope I won't screw up because I spent my night exhausting myself instead of getting a good night's rest like I should have. Now I really gotta go, so will you just let me get out?"

Dan was standing in the hallway, blocking Nate's way to the entrance. He stared at his son. "I don't appreciate you talking to me like that, son."

He didn't know where it was coming from, what made him snap, but all of a sudden, Nathan felt like screaming and hitting something, and he was angry enough to not back down when Dan grabbed him by the shirt.

"Screw you, Dan! Are you really going to beat the hell out of me? NOW? Remember, it's a game Friday. And besides, even though Whitey's statement was considered a lie, don't you think the authorities are probably keeping a close eye on you—and me?"

"There's no one here now," Dan hissed, effectively stopping Nathan from going anywhere by shoving and pinning him against the wall. "I'm warning you, kid. You better work your ass off on the court tonight for what you just said or I might consider other options."

Nathan tried to hide that Dan was scaring him. He used all his strength to shove Dan away and got his face within an inch of the other's. "Other options, Dad?" he sneered. "Like what? Now that you helped ruining Luke's leg you don't even have another son who could make your dream come true, that a Scott will finally enter the friggin' NBA! Too late for that. So you'll either have to go with me, or bury your stupid dream like you should have done a long time ago, when you were still thinking _you_ might be that Scott! Now let me go!"

The next thing he knew, he was being shoved against the wall again and again and again. Each time he felt a shelf dig deeper and deeper into his back and he couldn't even remember there having been shelves in the hallway in the first place.

He knew he had to do something if he wanted to get out of the house in one piece. He hadn't seen Dan like that in a very long time. The man was in some kind of rage that made it clear to Nathan he wouldn't relent, possibly not even when Nate passed out.

He remembered that he was still holding his bag in one hand and put every ounce of his strength and willpower into yanking it up and hitting the older man with it. Hard, again, and again, even when Dan had finally let go of him and was covering himself against the blows. Even when Dan's knees gave way, Nate was still aiming at his father, hitting him over and over.

Until someone suddenly grabbed his arm and made him stop.

-o0o-

Nathan blinked, trying to free himself, but Lucas didn't let go. With a sideways glance he saw that Dan's face and arms looked bruised all over, blood was dripping from his lips, his nose. But Luke couldn't think about his father now, he had to think about his brother first.

It had taken him forever to enter the stupid house. Since they didn't have a ramp he had been forced to go all the way to the backyard and enter the house from there. Maybe he could have prevented some of this if it hadn't been for that fact. It was too late now.

"Come on man, look at me. Look. At. Me," he heard himself say to the kid in front of him and he couldn't help but be reminded of the state Nate had been in on the day of Greg's attack.

Nathan's chest was heaving, his body completely tense, but finally he held Luke's gaze.

_Things will be different_, it echoed in Lucas's head and he flinched at the thought.

"He's not gonna get up anytime soon, okay? You're safe."

"He wouldn't stop, Luke. I had to do something. He just wouldn't stop..."

"I know. It's gonna be okay."

"If you had seen that look in his eyes, that _look_… —He was gonna kill me, Luke, he was..." Nate ran a hand over his face, and Lucas noticed that he was shaking badly.

Clearly, Nathan was in shock. Just as clearly, Lucas had to get control over things, quickly. But he felt so damn shaky himself, and he wasn't quite up to having to deal with all of this. Dan-badly hurt by one of his sons, and the same son who had hurt him so deeply traumatized that Luke didn't know what to do with him.

He had to stay calm for the younger one's sake, he told himself and forced a reassuring tone into his voice when he said, "I want you to follow me to the kitchen and sit down. Can you do that for me?"

Nathan nodded numbly, though he continued staring at the unmoving form of their father. Lucas had to get him to sit down fast. Nate's complexion had turned completely ashen so that he was worried his brother might pass out on him any minute.

"Come on, Nate. Come on, man," he therefore cajoled and eventually succeeded in jolting the other one out of his stupor.

Halfway to the kitchen, Lucas decided it would be safer to make the kid sit down on a couch, where it wouldn't hurt him as much should he still pass out from shock. Stirring him that way, Lucas's gaze fell onto a growing dark spot on the back of his brother's shirt, but he didn't dare ask about it. He didn't really want to know, not when he needed to stay focused.

As Nathan finally slumped down on one of the couches, flinching as his back hit the cushions, Lucas got his cell phone out and out of some weird impulse, dialed Keith's number instead of 911.

Briefly, he noticed the number of his missed calls flashing up on the screen before Keith's number replaced it: 16.

Lucas stared over to where Nathan had reclined even farther into the cushions, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes.

This was Brooke's birthday. And a game Friday.

"Luke, hey…" Keith's voice suddenly chimed into his ears, "Glad you called! I was just…"

No, Lucas thought. Keith wouldn't be glad for very long…

* * *

_We'll see what's left to come... Thanks for reading up to this point!_


	21. 21

_Oh, what's that? Another chapter? Whoops, how did that happen? Hmmm… And nobody knows what this story is about anymore… Oh well…_

* * *

-o0o-

"Luke, hey… Glad you called! I was just…"

Keith didn't even have much of a chance to say any more as his nephew instantly talked over him, an eerie desperation in his voice.

"Uncle Keith, you gotta come over to Dan and Nate's. NOW. Please, it's... I don't really know what to do. Nate hit Dan pretty badly. He's out cold in the hallway. But I don't know how bad it is. And I'm not sure I can leave Nate alone right now. He's in pretty bad shape and..."

"Whoa Luke, hold on. Hold on, son. What's going on?"

"Keith, I…"

There was a pause in which Keith thought he could hear his nephew breathe haltingly, as if something had shook him up quite a bit. Sure enough, when the kid continued, there was a clear tremor discernible in his voice.

"It's Dan. I don't know, I think he hurt Nate pretty badly. But this time, he fought back. Dan is… he's out cold, Keith, maybe even worse. I don't know. I don't know what to do. If I call the cops, will the do anything to Nate? I can't let that happen."

"Okay, Luke, it's alright. I'm on my way. Is Nate alright?" Keith asked. He tried to stay calm, to reassure the kid. Although that was hard to do; what had his brother done?

"He's hanging in there, I guess. I don't know…" Luke's answer came with a small delay, long enough, though, to make Keith worry even more. What had his brother done to his boys? How could it be that his own baby brother had screwed his own sons over so badly?

"Alright. " Keith processed that bit of information. Nathan was hanging in there… He guessed that was as good as it was gonna get. He continued to talk to Lucas, holding his cell in one hand while opening his car door with the other. Now came the hard part…

"Lucas. What I want you to do now is go back and check Dan's vital signs. You said he's unconscious?"

"I don't think I can leave Nate alone, he's…"

"Luke."

"… he doesn't look so good and what if Dan gets back up and…"

"Lucas!" Keith's voice was louder this time, he was nearly shouting to get the boys attention. "I need you to do this for me, son. Check Dan's vital signs, see whether he has a pulse. "

He wanted to go on, instruct Lucas to search for a pulse, see how strong it was, call an ambulance, the police. But he knew that he needed to take one step at a time; his nephew was too agitated, too afraid.

"I don't think I can…"

"Lucas. I'm on my way," he assured him. And he was. Already, he had left the driveway and was on the road to his brother's house. It was maybe 10 minutes away. "All I need is for you to check how Dan is doing. Can you do that?"

"Okay."

Just one word, uttered in such a small voice. Keith couldn't help but see an 8-year-old version of Lucas in front of him. A small child with big sad eyes, so upset that he was the only boy whose dad hadn't shown up for a special father-son little league game. Back then, Keith had only had to kneel down in front of him, had to look him in the eyes and say: "But you're not alone, kiddo. You got me, alright? I'm right here. I'll play just as good as any of those dads out there. Or do you doubt me?" The kid had looked at him doubtfully for maybe a minute or so, but all of a sudden, his features had softened into the sweetest little boy smile and he had said: "No, Uncle Keith, you're gonna kick all of their butts! I don't need a dad. I got you, right?" - "That's right, Lucas. So, why don't we both kick some serious butt right now. What do you say?"

And that had been that. Afterward, the kid had been smiling the rest of the day. He had had a great time, and hadn't ever spoken of his dad again. If only things were that easy still…

Keith was jolted out of his memories when Lucas announced, "He's breathing. His pulse is… a bit thread maybe?"

"Okay, good. That's good. Lucas. I'll be there in five. But you need to call an ambulance now. You hear me?"

"Okay…" Lucas sounded hesitant, worried.

"Don't worry, kiddo. I'll deal with them. They probably won't get there till I'm there, alright? But we do need to make sure a doctor sees to Dan. And to your brother. You understand? Lucas?"

"Yes, Uncle Keith."

He wasn't "Uncle Keith" that often anymore, he suddenly realized. He was just "Keith." Both his nephews had mostly grown out of calling him Uncle a long time ago. Only occasionally did they revert back to the "Uncle." Like when they felt vulnerable, when someone had broken down their defenses… Like now.

"Don't worry. I'll deal with them. I'll deal with this. It's gonna be okay."

-o0o-

Lucas didn't notice how desperately he was holding onto the phone in his hand. He was clinging onto it, his grip around the small metallic frame as unrelenting as a vise. As if his life depended on it. It had been hard to force himself to call an ambulance, harder even, to tell them anything about what had happened. So he had kept it short, had talked about a fight, about two people having gotten hurt due to domestic violence.

He had really said that, domestic violence. He had sounded like a guy in some cheesy cop show. But somehow that had made it easier. As if it wasn't his family, his father, his brother, that had been involved in this fight. As if it was all not quite real.

When Keith finally barged in through the unlocked front door, Lucas had already wheeled his way back into the living room, where Nathan was sitting slumped on the couch, a vacant stare on his face.

"Lucas, Luke!" he heard his uncle call out, then, "Nate! - Are you guys okay?"

Lucas managed to answer for them both, and said, "We're alright, Uncle Keith," before he wheeled back into the hallway slowly.

He saw Keith kneel by Dan's side, where the older man was assessing the damage Nathan had done. When he looked up, their gazes locked and Lucas found that for some reason he instantly felt a little lighter.

"Hey, kiddo. Is Nate doing okay?"

"He's… not quite himself, I don't think. It must be shock or something. Keith…" Luke wanted to tell his uncle what kind of man Dan Scott was, but the older one just nodded and said, "I know, Luke. I know. - I don't understand how this could happen, how I didn't notice anything earlier… My own brother…" He seemed lost in thought for only a second before he shook his head and asked, "And you, Luke? Are you okay?"

Lucas could only nod dumbly. "Go back to your brother, Luke. I don't want him to freak out when the ambulance gets here, alright? " Keith was still holding a hand to his brother's neck, when Dan finally stirred, moaning quietly. Keith exchanged glances with his nephew, then said, "You better get going, kiddo. He'll be fine. I'll take care of this. - And Lucas, just as a heads-up: I think I'll have to call both the police and child services… I can't let Dan get away with this. I'm sorry I didn't do anything earlier… I'm so sorry that I…"

The scariest, the most worrying part of all this, Lucas suddenly realized, was when he saw tears welling up in his uncle's eyes, when he saw all this horribly clear desperation and guilt lodged in those usually reassuring, warm eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, Uncle Keith," he muttered, and it was as much a question as a statement.

-o0o-

Nathan didn't really feel anything, except for a searing pain in his back that was made worse by the fabric that was clinging to it, and the pressure he put on it by sitting the way he did. He couldn't move, though. He felt too spent, too tired. And in a very wrong way, that pain felt oddly reassuring, like a constant companion. He could deal with pain. Pain would go away eventually. Pain could be masked.

It was those other things he didn't know how to deal with, how to mask.

Lucas had seen what had happened. Lucas had seen Dan. He had seen what Nate had done, what a horrible monster Nate was. He was just like his father. Even though he didn't remember any of it, he must have beaten on him even when he was already on the ground, he hadn't stopped. He knew it was true because he clearly remember one thing: Lucas's horrified stare when he had grabbed Nathan's arm.

Yeah, Nathan was a monster, he had become what he always hated. He had become a friggin' cliché: he had become his dad, just like so many other kids that got beaten by their parents, that swore to themselves that they would never do something like that, and yet they all ended up just like them. He was just like Dan.

And Dan was…

Suddenly, Nate heard voices from the hallway, strangers. Abruptly, he sat up, only then realizing, that Lucas had been watching him. He stared over to his brother.

"It's alright, Nate. It's just some EMTs. They'll wanna take a look at your back, too."

"No. I'm… I'm alright, I'll just," without finishing his sentence, he got up and wanted to leave. But a sudden lightheadedness took hold of him and he had to sit back down. "Just let me sit here for a bit," he mumbled.

"Nate," he heard his brother say, and he sounded very careful. Not like Nathan didn't know why that was. He had screwed up, again. And Lucas had to pick up the pieces. Again.

"I'm sorry I screwed up."

Nathan looked up, surprise showing on his face. He hadn't expected Lucas to say anything to that effect. "What?" he said, uncomprehending.

"I promised it would be different. I promised you would be safe, and yet you weren't. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you. Dan-"

Nathan bit his lip, he didn't wanna hear it. He couldn't.

"I'm sorry. But this time, I promise you it IS over. Uncle Keith is already talking to the police."

The police… Oh crap, what if they'd lock him up, what if…

"They're not gonna charge you, you hear me, Nate?"

"Stop, Lucas. Just, please stop…" Nathan sighed. He felt a lump form in his throat, a lump that wouldn't go away. He was so tired of all this. He just had no fight left in him, nothing. "I can't… "

"Nathan… How long has Dan been doing this?"

The younger brother tensed involuntarily, suppressing a hiss of pain. "What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about. How long?"

Suddenly, unbidden, Nathan felt his lower lip tremble traitorously. He had to fight this. There might still be a chance that he could still pretend that he had just overreacted or something, maybe blame it on the use of some drugs or painkillers or whatever. There was still a chance they would take it for what it was-a family fight gone bad. For that was what it was, right? Not abuse, not anything that serious. He had been overreacting. It had probably been his fault. And who knew how other fathers and sons dealt with stuff like that… They were guys, just guys…

"It's nothing," he finally muttered, barely audible."

"Nate…" Lucas prodded, but before Nate could say anything, a loud commotion could be heard coming from the hallway and Nathan couldn't help but shrink into the cushions even more, trying to block it all out, just block it all out…

-o0o-

Dan had come to with a jolt, startling not only his brother, but also the EMTs that were bent over him, examining his wounds.

"What the hell?" he called out, trying to get up off the ground, trying to fend off the people around him with his arms.

"Sir, please lie back down, we're…"

"That bastard, that screwed up little bastard… Where the hell is he?" he demanded to know, staring at his brother. What was Keith doing here anyway?

Things had really gotten out of hand if first his stupid son managed to beat him unconscious and then his brother played the knight in shining armor that came to rescue them all…

"Let GO of me, goddammit," he cursed, and fought to stand. "Where is he?"

"Dan, calm down. The police is on their way…"

"The police? What the hell do the police want? Get the hell out of my way."

"Sir."

Dan bodily shoved the EMT out of the way that was trying to hold him back, to keep him from finding his son. Nathan was dead. DEAD! There was absolutely no excuse…

Suddenly Dan found himself being held back by Keith, just before he could take another few steps and walk into the living room. "Is he in there? Is Nathan in there? - Can you believe what he did? Can you believe it, Keith? Your precious little nephew decided to use me as his friggin' punching bag!"

"Dan. Dan, you can't go in there. How about you sit back down and let those EMTs check you over."

"I'm FINE! Now let me go."

"Dan…"

"Let. Me. Go! - Don't you see this?" He gestured at his nose that felt broken, at his lip, that was badly split. Everything hurt like a bitch. That stupid worthless kid! "Don't you see what he did? Do you think our dad would have let us treat him like this and not done anything about it? That he wouldn't have disciplined us? And rightly so!"

"Dan. I can't let you go in there."

"What the hell are you talking about. This is my house. You had better go now. All of you. GO!"

"How long has this gone on, Dan?"

Dan, who had been trying to fight off his brother, suddenly stopped cold. What the hell was Keith going on about? He stared at his older brother.

"What are you talking about, Keith?" He spat out the name.

"The abuse?"

"Abuse?" Dan laughed. A short, humorless sound.

"Yes, Dan. Abuse."

"What are you saying?"

"That you are abusing your son. THAT's what I'm saying, Dan. And now, for fuck's sake, stop acting like you don't know what I'm talking about. You are abusing your own son and I want to know for how long this has been going on."

"You are crazy, Keith. Finally, all of the alcohol and whatnot have gotten to you."

"Fine, Dan. Be like that. Tell the police about it. They should be here any minute now. Tell them how Nate got that gash in his back, how-"

"What? The police?"

"I'll make them lock you up, Danny. I should have seen this. I should have known. I just don't understand…"

Keith looked at him with a sad face, a sad friggin' puppy-dog face, like Dan was some lost cause, a hopeless case. He pitied his older brother, he had no backbone, he had never been strong enough.

"Understand?" Dan sneered, "Understand? What isn't there to understand? The boy is a useless piece of shit. He was supposed to do one thing right. ONE THING: get into the friggin' NBA and show the world that Scotts are someone. And what does he do? He screws up! He beats his father! And if you call that abuse, I call it disciplining him! He needs some sense beaten into him. Otherwise he won't ever understand!"

He wasn't prepared for the fist lashing out at him. It hit him square in the face, further dislodging his broken nose, and with a look of stunned surprise on his face, Dan Scott went down unconsciously once again, while Keith was nursing his pulsing fingers.

-o0o-

They had heard it all. Every single word Dan had said. They sat in silence, staring at each other. For the life of him, Nathan couldn't help but stare at Lucas, almost pleadingly. As if looking away would mean he'd be alone again, lost.

But he wasn't. He was no longer alone with this. Lucas knew. He really knew, and yet he stayed. He was right here. He wasn't sneering, he wasn't laughing, he didn't look disappointed. He was just there, holding Nate's gaze.

He was not alone.


	22. 22

_Thanks everyone for reading, special thanks to aniki19, Long Live BRUCAS, sunshine and thunderincrimson! I only got this out for you guys!_

-o0o-

When he called her, later, she was frantic, angry. "Lucas Scott!" she shouted into her cell and he flinched. Before he could explain anything to her though, Brooke talked over him, "I tried to call you. Like, 20 times? And NOW you finally found the time to call back? - You knew it was my birthday! My birthday, Lucas! "

"Brooke, please, I'm sorry…"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Lucas. I thought we were going to do something special for it. I thought… Gosh, how stupid was I? Thinking that for once in my life my birthday wouldn't suck completely - because this time I'd spend it with you? - You know what? I shouldn't even be talking to you. You'd better have a damn good explanation or-"

Lucas lost his patience. The events of the day were finally catching up with him for real. He couldn't help blurting out way too loudly, "Does my brother and my father being interrogated by the police right now count as a good explanation? Does Dan being a friggin' abusive dad count as a good explanation?"

"Oh gosh, Luke, are you okay?"

"Does that sound like a good enough excuse for you, Brooke?"

Suddenly, he heard her make a sniffling sound and he knew that she had started to cry. Instantly, he felt bad. He shouldn't have yelled at her. After all she didn't know.

"Oh, Lucas, I'm… so sorry. I didn't - I wasn't…"

Sighing, he forced himself to calm down. He was still sitting at the police station, waiting for Keith and Nathan to return from being questioned. He was worried and tired, and all he wanted was for everything to finally be over.

"No," he said after having listened to Brooke's silent crying for a few seconds, "I'm sorry, babe. I shouldn't have yelled at you. It's just… Everything is falling apart. I should have been there for Nate, but I wasn't. You should have seen him. And Dan…"

"I'm so sorry. - Do you want me to come over? Is there anything I can do?"

He smiled, sadly. "Just don't be mad at me anymore, okay? I promise I'll make it up to you. But right now, I really have to be there for Nate, for my family…"

"It's alright, baby. You don't have to make up anything to me. Well… you know…" He could almost see her smile gently. "A nice little present wouldn't hurt, but that's - sort of - optional."

"Don't worry. You'll get your birthday present, Brooke Davis. "

At that moment, he saw his mom enter the building, saw her look around frantically, until she spotted him sitting next to a little bench in his wheelchair, looking lost and out of place. Redirecting his attention back to his girlfriend, he said, " I'm sorry, but I gotta go now."

"Alright, Lucas Scott. You take care of your family now. Call me when you need anything, or when you want me to come over. Anything. I love you, Lucas Scott."

"And I love you, Brooke Davis."

With that Lucas disconnected the call and put his phone away. "Mom."

Karen almost ran the distance to her son and then hugged him desperately. "Keith called…"

"I know. I'm sorry, mom. It's just. Dan… you should have seen what he did to Nathan, mom. He's… - I can't believe I ever envied their relationship. I can't believe I didn't see it earlier. Mom, if I had…"

"Shush, Luke. None of this is your fault. No one knew anything. Come on, now. It's over. You got Nathan out of there, alright? Going by what Keith said, the police are not gonna let Dan go this time."

Lucas didn't feel much better, though. After everything that had happened, he felt like he should have done something earlier. Like, after Dan had practically tortured him when he was still in the hospital, he should have known how off things really were. A man capable of something like that wouldn't stop at that. He wouldn't display such violence one minute and yet be a loving dad to his younger son. If he was honest with himself, he had seen it earlier. The little hints at Dan's true nature… Yet he had chosen to ignore them because he hadn't been able to wrap his mind around the concept of his father being an abusive dad. He still had difficulties believing it, believing anything of what he had seen and heard today.

"I know, mom," he finally whispered. "But what's gonna happen to Nate now?" Hopelessy, he looked at his mom. "He can't go back to either of his parents, mom.- Dan is a monster. And Deb and her pills…"

"We'll find a way to make things okay again, Lucas, you hear me?"

But he wasn't sure that things could ever be okay again…

-o0o-

Nathan was sitting right next to his uncle in an interview room. His back had been patched up earlier, and was now stinging dully. He had needed stitches. For the first time, he had actually needed stitches after Dan had lost it. He felt so empty, so tired that he didn't even care about anything anymore. If they wanted to charge him with assault, so be it. He just didn't care.

"Son," the police officer sitting opposite him was the same who had taken the pictures of his injuries earlier. It had been such a humiliating experience. But now, even that seemed far away.

"We're gonna be done here soon, alright? Just a few more things and then you're good to go home with your uncle."

Home? Nathan thought. He couldn't go home…

As if Keith had sensed his thoughts, he was quick to say, "You're gonna stay with me, Nate. Child Protective Services have already agreed to it. We'll just grab a few things of yours and then you'll stay with me."

He didn't know where it was coming from, he just couldn't help saying, "I can't go back in there…"

Keith and the policeman both looked at him; Nathan was oblivious to the sympathy and concern in their expressions, though. Keith raised a hand to place it on his nephews shoulder, and just caught himself in time. He wasn't sure Nathan would do well with physical contact of any form right now.

"It's alright," he merely said instead. "You can wait in the car, and I'll get your stuff."

Nathan didn't meet his uncle's gaze. He didn't nod. Keith wasn't sure, the kid had even heard him. But he decided not to force a response out of the boy.

"Alright, Nathan. Mr. Scott. We're nearly done here. I appreciate you doing this right after everything you had to go through today. As I said earlier, Nathan won't be charged with assault. This will be considered as a case of self-defense. I just need to know a few more things from you, Nathan - because we're going to charge your father with child abuse."

Nathan flinched at the word.

"Just a few more questions, alright, son?" When he didn't say anything, Keith nodded at the police officer and the man continued, "Is this the first time your dad ever hurt you?"

"No." It was a whisper, barely audible.

"Do you recall the first time he ever hurt you? How old you were?"

Nathan closed his eyes and took a few shallow breaths. Make this stop, he thought, just make this be over already…

Eventually, he answered, his voice beat and quiet. "I was 6. It was after a Little League Game."

"What did he do?"

"We had lost. He grabbed my arm really hard and hit me in the face."

"With his flat hand, or a fist?"

"Fist. I only remember it because I got my first nosebleed… Afterward, he said he was sorry. I really believed him that time."

Keith visibly tensed at the pictures the boy's words evoked in his mind. It had started so early? How come he never noticed anything? What kind of an uncle was he? What kind of a man?

"And after that? When did he hit you again?"

"A couple weeks later. I had told him I didn't want to play Little League anymore."

The questions went on and on. He had to describe in detail some of the more nasty beatings of Dan. He had to talk about the verbal abuse. The policeman also wanted to know whether there had ever been sexual abuse. Part of Nathan wanted to laugh then, not because it was funny, but because Keith looked so shocked and lost and like he was anticipating the worst.

Instead, he bit down the laugh and simply said, "No. - He had my mom for that, I guess. I mean, maybe that's why she left me alone with him. Because she couldn't stand him anymore. She must have had a good reason, right? To leave her son with such a monster? Nothing else makes sense…" He knew he sounded desperate and pathetic. He couldn't help it. He just couldn't understand why his mom had never stayed around for him.

Neither the policeman nor Keith said anything.

"Nathan. You said things got worse right before the accident?"

He nodded.

"Do you have an idea why?"

"Because my brother got on the same team with me… My dad was furious. He wanted me to outshine Lucas in every aspect. And I didn't. I couldn't ever meet his demands anymore. Before, things had gotten a little better. As long as I was winning and the 'star,'" he spat the word out, "of the team, he was satisfied. Once Luke entered the picture, that was all over. - Everything was over. - Gosh, can't I just go now? Can't you just let me go? I can't do this anymore, I…"

To his horror, his voice started wavering and he got up so quickly that his chair fell to the ground.

In an instant, Keith stood up right beside him and told the policeman that the interrogation was over.

"He needs rest now. If you need anything, call me, Sir. But right now, I'm going to take my nephew home with me. I think he's been through enough."

"Thanks Mr. Scott. You're right. Take Nathan home. If we need anything else, I'll let you know. - Oh, and a little heads-up, Mr. Scott. It looks like your brother is going to press charges: he said you beat him…"

Keith stared at the other man, then ran a hand over his face in resignation. Dan was unbelievable. At least he was smart enough to leave his son out of this, to not press charges against him too. Although that had probably more to do with his lawyer's smartness than his own. Knowing Dan, he probably wanted to blame this all on Nate - and maybe he would still do just that. Keith nodded and thanked the officer, then followed his nephew out of the room.

-o0o-

Lucas looked up in time to see Nathan and Keith walk toward them slowly. Karen got up quickly and, with a look back to her son, she walked over to them. "Nathan," she said, and after only a moment's hesitation she simply put her arms around him for a gentle hug, mindful of his back injury - like only a mother could. He let it happen. He stood there rigidly at first, until finally his arm came around her too and he couldn't stop the sorrow and tears any longer…

It was probably the saddest thing Lucas had ever seen, and he felt so helpless, sitting there in his wheelchair, watching his brother break down.


	23. SPOILER in case it stays unfinished

_*SPOILER ALERT* - Alright, everyone, this is a random "list" of things / ideas I've been having for this story. I'll post this here now simply coz I don't know whether I'll ever get around to write this all into the story. So, if you want to, feel free to read, to comment, make suggestions. But if you'd rather wanna wait till I actually do manage to turn this into actual chapters of this story, don't read any further._

_Oh, and this is unedited and by no means complete.  
_

-o0o-

Dan will have to go to prison for what he did to Nate. In a lawsuit Nate is forced to talk about what Dan did to him all those years. It's very hard for him and at first he really doesn't want to do it, but some cajoling from Luke and Keith finally persuade him that it HAS to be done.

Deb is shocked to learn all this, coz she never really knew just how bad things had been. She tries to get sole custody of her son. But it is Keith who steps in, when he sees how upset Nate is about it all. Deb's addiction is fully revealed when she doesn't want to relent. The judge recommends she go get treatment when she makes a scene in the court, upsetting Nathan even more.

She finally agrees to get help, when she is assured that Dan won't get away with what he did and will actually have to go to prison. When the judge and child services consider placing Nathan in a foster home, Keith offers to take in his nephew. He is told that it is not an easy task to be there for a teenager and that child services would drop by unannounced regularly to check on Nathan. He is told that his history of drinking might be a problem, but then Karen tells everyone her plans of moving in with Keith, much to his surprise, and the authorities agree on letting Nathan stay with his uncle and Karen, if he so wishes.

Though Nathan is reluctant, feeling insecure and awkward about moving in with his brother and Karen, it is his best option, and he agrees.

It's when he's finally living with them that Lucas learns the full extent of the damage Dan did, when one day he accidentally opens the bathroom door to see Nathan standing with his bare back turned to him and he sees old as well as new scars on the skin. Nathan turns around, challenge in his stare, but Lucas doesn't say anything other than, "To think that I was ever jealous of your relationship with Dan… Man, I just didn't know…" Nathan just shrugs in response and that is that. He doesn't get angry, doesn't use any other form of self defense against his brother. That instant marks the moment their relationship finally changed into a real brotherly one.

After that point, it is clear that Nate and Luke developed a more brotherly relationship, with Lucas always looking out for his brother. He's very protective of Nate, always wanting to make sure that nothing bad ever happens to him again. He won't have anyone mess with his brother ever again. If people look at him weirdly, Luke will be there. If at a game someone so much as shouts at him, Luke will get angry, up to a point where it's actually Nate that has to calm down his brother to prevent him from getting himself into fights.

Nate will continue to fall back into defensive "jerk-behavior" around other people, but Luke will be there now to make it better and to help him get over it. Keith will be there for him, too, even though the two are awkward around each other, Keith always overly worried he might hurt Nate in any way.

When Nate does something stupid once, getting himself suspended from school, and Keith gets angry, he shouts at Nate and gets very close to him physically, though without any intent to hit him. Yet Nathan doesn't know how to read his uncle's gestures and feels threatened, shying away from the other one. It is then that Keith is really shocked and worried and tells Nathan over and over again that he would never hurt him. Ever.

Later, he talks to Karen about the incident and he gets a little teary eyed thinking that his own brother screwed Nathan up so badly that he could think Keith could ever hurt him. Karen consoles him.

At the same time, Lucas assures Nathan that Keith would never hurt him. Nathan has a hard time trusting anyone, but by then he has learned to trust his brother and his brother's judgment of their uncle. So he agrees to talk with Keith the next morning, and together with Lucas and Karen they all sit down together and talk about it. They promise each other to work on their relationship and Nathan is assured once more, that no one is gonna mess with him any more.

In school, Nathan and Lucas have started to hang out together, even though Lucas is no longer part of the b-ball team, coz he won't ever get back the use of his leg. They all hang out together, Jake, Skills, and the girls.

Sometimes, Nathan is in a funk and it's hard to get him out of it again. What with his best friend dead, his dad in prison, his mom in rehab, he has a hard time dealing and is eventually diagnosed with depression. At first he refuses to take any medication, especially since his mom is an addict. But when one day, after he has barely been able to get out of bed in the mornings and do anything all day for weeks, Lucas begs him to go see Dr. Everard with him, he finally agrees to get help and try taking the medication.

Nathan and Haley continue dating, though they go through a dark patch when his depression is at its worst. And Lucas and Brooke will continue their way together, too. Haley won't become a cheerleader, and she won't become a great friend to either Brooke or Peyton, which sometimes makes it a little difficult for Nate and Luke.

And Peyton? She'll actually hook up with Paul for a while before she finally takes an interest in Jake and leaves with him and his baby on the boat…


End file.
